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By the comets who were cast From their pride and from their throne To be drudges till the last – To be carriers of fire (The red fire of their heart) With speed that may not tire And with pain that shall not part – Who livest – that we know – In Eternity – we feel – But the shadow of whose brow What spirit shall reveal? Tho' the beings whom thy Nesace, Thy messenger, hath known Have dream'd for thy Infinity A model of their own –