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 And incidental small commodities That perfect exile might require, and stayed The night after the voyage with an antique Survival of a broader world than ours Whom Asher called The Admiral. This time, A little out of sorts and out of tune With paddling, I let Asher go alone, Sure that his heart was happy. Then it was That hell came. I sat gazing over there Across the water, watching the sun's last fire Above those gloomy and indifferent trees That might have been a wall around the world, When suddenly, like faces over the lake, Out of the silence of that other shore I was aware of hidden presences That soon, no matter how many of them there were,