The Flight of Life
Down the great steeps of life vertiginous
We scurry, you and I. Whither away,
— The while the sky reels backward over us,
In this hot haste that bates not night or day?
To distances we cannot dream or know,
In impotence supreme and vast we go.
We scurry, you and I. Whither away,
— The while the sky reels backward over us,
In this hot haste that bates not night or day?
To distances we cannot dream or know,
In impotence supreme and vast we go.
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