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Poem	The serpent dips his head beneath the sea His mother, source of all his energy Eternal, thence to draw the strength he needs On earth to do indomitable dees Once more; and they, who saw but understood Naught of his nature of beatitude Were awed: they murmured with abated breath; Alas the Master; so he sinks in death. But whoso knows the mystery of man Sees life and death as curves of one same plan.
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