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Poem	1906 The stamina of an old long-noble race in the eyebrows' heavy arches. In the mild blue eyes the solemn anguish of a child and here and there humility-not a fool's but feminine: the look of one who serves. The mouth quite ordinary large and straight composed yet not willing to speak out when necessary. The forehead still na?ve most comfortable in shadows looking down. This as a whole just hazily foreseen- never in any joy of suffering collected for a firm accomplishment; and yet as though from far off with scattered Things a serious true work were being planned.
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