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THE SINGER
A little while, with love and youth,
He wandered, singing:—
He felt life's pulses hot and strong
Beat all his rapid veins along;
He wrought life's rhythms into song:
He laughed, he sang the Dawn!
So close, so close to life he dwelt
That at rare times and rapt he felt
The fleshly barriers yield and melt;
He trembled, looking on
Creation at her miracles;
His soul-sight pierced the earthly shells
And saw the spirit weave its spells,
The veil of clay withdrawn;—
A little while, with love and youth,
He wandered, singing!
A little while, with age and death,
He wanders, dreaming;—
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