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CIVILIZATION
OLD as the race of man,
Young as the child new-born,
From glooms Plutonian
I mount to paths of morn;
And as I move o'er vale and hill,
Before me flees the night,
For on into the darkness still
I bear my light.
The desert stayed me long
Its fancied worth to tell;
The savage, subtle and strong,
Opposed me, and he fell:
But the savage learned from conflict past
To battle and succeed,
And the foolish desert came at last
To bloom indeed.
I halt not for the maimed,
I wait not for the blind;
My foot is never lamed,
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