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After Reading Antony And Cleopatra

 AS when the hunt by holt and field
Drives on with horn and strife,
Hunger of hopeless things pursues
Our spirits throughout life.
The sea's roar fills us aching full Of objectless desire - The sea's roar, and the white moon-shine, And the reddening of the fire.
Who talks to me of reason now? It would be more delight To have died in Cleopatra's arms Than be alive to-night.

Poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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