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yes 'im an' 'er an' it we're all of us anxious to finish our bit an' we want to get 'ome to our tea
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'morrn ferguson man have ye ever thought what your good leddy costs in coal
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but long ago before that time did taffy and her daddy climb that down and had their home on it
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details for burin'-parties company-cooks or supply turn out the chronic ikonas i
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when you want men to be mausered at one and a penny a day ask for the london ikonas i
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ahae my heart is heavy with the things that i do not understand
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the house-beams shall fall and the karela the bitter karela shall cover you all
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the skippers say i'm crazy but i can prove 'em wrong for i am in charge of the lower deck with all that doth belong which they would not give to a lunatic and the competition so strong
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a much-discerning public hold the singer generally sings and prints and sells his past for gold
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when with a pain he desires to explain to his servitors baby howls himself black in the face toothlessly striving to curse and the six-months-old mother begins to inquire of the gods it may be
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when at the head of the grade tumultuous out of the cutting pours the belated express roars at the night and draws clear redly obscured or displayed by her fire-doors opening and shutting
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we shall lift up the ropes that constrained our youth to bind on our children's hands we shall call to the waters below the bridges to return and to replenish our lands we shall harness and scholarly plough the sands
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we shall lie down in the eye of the sun for lack of a light on our way we shall rise up when the day is done and chirrup behold it is day we shall abide till the battle is won ere we amble into the fray
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we shall make walk preposterous ghosts of the glories we once created immodestly smearing from muddled palettes amazing pigments mismated and our friend will weep when we ask them with boasts if our natural force be abated
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the lamp of our youth will be utterly out but we shall subsist on the smell of it and whatever we do we shall fold our hands and suck our gums and think well of it yes we shall be perfectly pleased with our work and that is the perfectest hell of it
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the late lamented camel in the water-cut 'e lies we keeps a mile be'ind 'im an' we keeps a mile in front but 'e gets into the drinkin'-casks and then o' course we dies
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and learned us how to camp and cook an' steal a horse and scout what ever game we fancied most you joyful played it too and rather better of the whole
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the same old work the same old scoff the same old dust and sun the same old chance that laid us out or winked an' let us through the same old life the same old death
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we'll never read the papers now without inquirin' first for word from all those friendly drops where you were born an' nursed they're only just across the road
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it is gone gone gone with lost atlantis in seventeen ninety-three 'twas there for all to see but it's not in philadelphia this morning
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it is gone gone gone with thebes the golden in seventeen ninety-four 'twas a famous dancing floor but it's not in philadelphia this morning
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he is gone gone gone with martin luther in seventeen ninety-five he was alive but he's not in philadelphia this morning
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let zeus adjust your landward kin whose votive meal and salt at easy-cheated altars win oblivion for the fault except ye owe the fates a jest be slow to jest with them
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now and henceforward serve unshod through wet and wakeful shifts a present and oppressive god but take to aid my gifts the wide and windward-opening eye the large and lavish hand
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he kept poseidon's law intact but once discharged the dromond's hold the bireme beached once more splendaciously mendacious rolled the brass-bound man ashore
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in his own place of power unkown his light o' love another's flame and he and alien and alone
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appointing a colonel from chatham who managed the bhamo state line so exeter battleby tring consented his claims to resign and died on four thousand a month in the ninetieth year of his age
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before their day arose they beckoned it to close close in confusion and destruction o'er them
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mere corruption swaddled man-wise but the woman whole and clean and she waited on him crooning and rahere beheld the twain each delighted in the other and he checked and groaned again
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never mind brother thy tail hangs down behind this is the way of the monkey-kind
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a smith makes me to betray my man in my first fight
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to gather gold at the world's end i am sent
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the gold i gather comes into england out of deep water
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like a shining fish then it descends into deep water
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it is not given for goods or gear but for the thing
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now there isn't no room for to say ye don't know they 'ave proved it plain and true that whether it's widow or whether it's ship victorier's work is to do an' they done it the jollies 'er majesty's jollies soldier an' sailor too
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best take 'im for a new love the dead they cannot rise an' you'd better dry your eyes an' you'd best take 'im for your true love
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allah divides the companions (yet he said-yet he said: cease not from singing
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song of the dead in the west in the barrens the pass that betrayed them where the wolverine tumbles their packs from the camp and the grave-rnound they made them hear now the song of the dead
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through the naked words and mean may ye see the truth between as the singer knew and touched it in the ends of all the earth
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but after this was ordained there came dark israel for whom no river remained
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he has looked upon man and his eyeballs are clear the red mist of doing has thinned to a cloud he has taken the path for bairagi avowed
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but we hold it in all disaster if only you stand by your master the gods will stand by you
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mithras god of the noontide the heather swims in the heat our helmets scorch our foreheads our sandals burn our feet mithras also a soldier keep us true to our vows
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where plague has spread his pinions over nations and dominions then will be work for a spy
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and it all goes into laundry but it never comes out in the wash for fear o' stellenbosch
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instead o' sitting down an' takin' root but we was not allowed so the boojers scooped the crowd to the last survivin' bandolier an' boot
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with its stoep so nicely shaded from the sun >from sleepin' in his gaiters in a dew and de wet's commando out an' trickled through
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s o 's till we was sick
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the dreadful tone in which my name is named that sends me 'neath the sofa-frill ashamed if thou reject me whither shall i go
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to him who bade the heavens abide yet cease not from their motion to him who tames the moonstruck tide a day round the ocean let his names be magnified in all poor folks' devotion
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not for prophecies or powers visions gifts or graces but the unregardful hours that grind us in our places with the burden on our backs the weather in our faces
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not for voices harps or wings or rapt illumination but the grosser self that springs of use and occupation unto which the spirit clings as her last salvation
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he shall guide us through this dark not by new-blown glories but by every ancient mark our fathers used before us till our children ground their ark where the proper shore is
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we'd stolen wills for ballast and a crew of missing heirs they shipped as able bastards till the wicked nurse confessed and they worked the old three-decker to the islands of the blest
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no moral doubts assailed us so when the port we neared the villain had his flogging at the gangway and we cheered for every one was married and i went at shore at last
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i left the lovers loving and parents signing cheques in endless english comfort by county-folk caressed i left the old three-decker at the islands of the blest
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ay blow your shrieking sirens at the deaf grey-bearded seas boom our the dripping oil-bags to skin the deep's unrest and you aren't one knot the nearer to the islands of the blest
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you'll see her tiering canvas in sheeted silver spread while far so far above you her tall poop-lanterns shine unvexed by wind or weather like the candles round a shrine
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but that was before ionia any of the mountains of ionia had bared their peaks to the air
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till after many winters rose ionia crystal-eyed sages of ionia who said these tales are lies
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but earth was wiser than ionia and they overlaid the teaching of ionia and the truth was choked at birth
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it was then that men bethought them of ionia or the word that was whispered in ionia and they turned from the shadows and the shows
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but it's saviour of 'is country when the guns begin to shoot an' it's tommy this an' tommy that an' anything you please an' tommy ain't a bloomin' fool you bet that tommy sees
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the dogberry and the waterbury made it fifty mile five pounds and juan paid
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sing oak and ash and thorn good sirs england shall bide ti judgment tide by oak and ash and thorn
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what truce with dawn look from the aching sky day stalks a tyrant with a flaming sword
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the soothin' jingle-bump-an'-clank from day to peaceful day ubique means they've caught de wet an' now we shan't be long ubique means i much regret the beggar's goin' strong
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to-tschin-shu is condemned to death how can he drink tea with the executioner japanese proverb
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nay we be women together-we know what that lust is worth peace in thy utmost borders and strength on a road untrod these are dealt or diminished at the secret will of god
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hast thou not torn the naiad from her flood the elfin from the green grass and from me the summer dream beneath the tamarind tree
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and the good suns we see that flash and pass and perish and the bell that knells them cries another gone: o when will ye arise
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now the days are over age and winter close us slowly round
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when i was down beside the sea a wooden spade they gave to me to dig the sandy shore
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my holes were empty like a cup in every hole the sea came up till it could come no more
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one more touch of the bow smell of the virginal green - one more and my bosom feels new life with an ecstasy
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and now the morn has dawned the morn has died the day has come and gone and once more night about my lone life settles wild and wide
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i was made all things to all men but now my course is done and now is my reward
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ah christ when i stand at thy throne with those i have drawn to the lord restore me my self again
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the morning drum-call on my eager ear thrills unforgotten yet the morning dew lies yet undried along my field of noon
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but now i pause at whiles in what i do and count the bell and tremble lest i hear the sunset gun too soon
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fain would i eat but alas i have needful matter in hand since i carry my tribute of fish to the jealous king of the land
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and they held the chin in silence and heard her and shook the head for they knew the men of taiarapu famous in battle and feast marvellous eaters and smiters: the men of vaiau not least
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in the deeps of the woods they laboured piling the fuel high in fagots the load of a man fuel seasoned and dry thirsty to seize upon fire and apt to blurt into flame
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but even as he did so the wind in a garment of flames and pain wrapped him from head to heel and the waistcloth parted in twain and the living fruit of his loins dropped in the fire below
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and sure he was none that she knew none of her country or clan a stranger mother-naked and marred with the marks of fire but comely and great of stature a man to obey and admire
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note covered an oven the cooking fire is made in a hole in the ground and is then buried
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so shalt thou stint the meagre winter thus of his projected triumph and the rime shall melt before the sunshine in thy book
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where is the tryst it must keep who is her pandar death
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lo her lips summoning part i am not whom she calls
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r l s
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this hast thou done and i can i be base i must arise o father and to port some lost complaining seaman pilot home
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and back returning to your firelit friends you see the rosy sun despoiled of light hung caught in thickets like a schoolboy's kite
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bright were your eyes in the night we have lived my love o we have loved my love
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for when our souls have learned the heat to bear the cloud will vanish we shall hear his voice and round my golden tent like lambs rejoice
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in futurity i prophesy that the earth from sleep
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mock on mock on voltaire rousseau you throw the sand against the wind and the wind blows it back again
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they stumble all night over bones of the dead and feel they know not what but care and wish to lead others when they should be led
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i slumber not the thorn is in my couch each day a trumpet soundeth in mine ear its echo in my heart
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the humblest of thy pilgrim passing by would gladly woo thine echoes with his string though from thy heights no more one muse will wave her wing
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