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Solitude is a silent storm that breaks down all our dead branches;
Yet it sends our living roots deeper into the living heart of the living earth.
Once I spoke of the sea to a brook, and the brook thought me but an imaginative exaggerator;
And once I spoke of a brook to the sea, and the sea thought me but a depreciative defamer.
How narrow is the vision that exalts the busyness of the ant above the singing of the grasshopper.
The highest virtue here may be the least in another world.
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