VISION
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love all things that pass: their briefness isMusic that fades on transient silences.Winds, birds, and glittering leaves that flare and fall--They fling delight across the world; they callTo rhythmic-flashing limbs that rove and race...A moment in the dawn for Youth's lit face;A moment's passion, closing on the cry--'O Beauty, born of lovely things that die!'
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