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An Eternity

 There is no dusk to be, 
There is no dawn that was, 
Only there's now, and now, 
And the wind in the grass.
Days I remember of Now in my heart, are now; Days that I dream will bloom White the peach bough.
Dying shall never be Now in the windy grass; Now under shooken leaves Death never was.

Poem by Archibald Macleish
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