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From too much love of living,
From hope and fear set free,
We thank with brief thanksgiving,
Whatever gods may be,
That no life lives forever,
That dead men rise up never,
That even the weariest river winds somewhere safe to sea.
-- Swinburne
What has roots as nobody sees,
Is taller than trees,
Up, up it goes,
And yet never grows?
Thinks't thou existence doth depend on time?
It doth; but actions are our epochs; mine
Have made my days and nigh
👔 -- 📗 -- 🎫 -- 👑 -- 📕 -- ⚡ -- ⛳ -- 🏀 -- 🚘 -- 🚗 -- 🥗 -- 💛 -- 📘 -- 🌂 -- 👳