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A Myth

 A FLOATING, a floating 
Across the sleeping sea, 
All night I heard a singing bird 
Upon the topmast tree.
“Oh, came you from the isles of Greece Or from the banks of Seine; Or off some tree in forests free, Which fringe the western main?” “I came not off the old world Nor yet from off the new— But I am one of the birds of God Which sing the whole night through.
” “Oh, sing and wake the dawning— Oh, whistle for the wind; The night is long, the current strong, My boat it lags behind.
” “The current sweeps the old world, The current sweeps the new; The wind will blow, the dawn will glow, Ere thou hast sail’d them through.

Poem by Charles Kingsley
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