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Far-off a young State rises, full of might: / I paint its brave escutcheon. Near at hand …
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I watch the leaves that flutter in the wind, / Bathing my eyes with coolness and my heart …
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strong in thy steadfast purpose, be / Like some brave master of the sea, …
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The rose aloft in sunny air, / Beloved alike by bird and bee, …
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Even as tender parents lovingly / Send a dear child in some true servant’s care …
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To the quick brow Fame grudges her best wreath / While the quick heart to enjoy it throbs beneath: …
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A giant came to me when I was young, / My instant will to ask— …
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The bees in the clover are making honey, and I am making my hay: / The air is fresh, I seem to draw a young man’s breath to-day. …
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Stern be the pilot in the dreadful hour / When a great nation, like a ship at sea …
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I lift this sumach-bough with crimson flare, / And, touched with subtle pangs of dreamy pain, …