TWO WORLDS
A fiery young world, in far voids of sky,
Called to an old world growing dark and chill:
"Now that you hear the hour you must die,
Tell me what mighty memories haunt you still!"
Then from the old sad world this answer fell:
"Vast peoples rose and vanished where I swing....
But all my poor tired soul remembers well
Are the great songs my poets used to sing!"
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A fiery young world, in far voids of sky,
Called to an old world growing dark and chill:
"Now that you hear the hour you must die,
Tell me what mighty memories haunt you still!"
Then from the old sad world this answer fell:
"Vast peoples rose and vanished where I swing....
But all my poor tired soul remembers well
Are the great songs my poets used to sing!"
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