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KNOWLEDGE
Now that I know
How passion warms little
Of flesh in the mould,
And treasure is brittle,—
I'll lie here and learn
How, over their ground,
Trees make a long shadow
And a light sound.
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KNOWLEDGE
Now that I know
How passion warms little
Of flesh in the mould,
And treasure is brittle,—
I'll lie here and learn
How, over their ground,
Trees make a long shadow
And a light sound.