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They had heroes for companions, beautiful youths todream of, rose-marble-fingeredWomen shed light down the great lines;But you have invoked the slime in the skull,The lymph in the vessels. They have shown men Godslike racial dreams, the woman’s desire,The man’s fear, the hawk-faced prophet’s; but nothingHuman seems happy at the feet of yours.Therefore though not forgotten, not loved, in the gray oldyears in the evening leaningOver the gray stones of the tower-top,You shall be called heartless and blind.
