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all my gentle friends had gone I wandered in the night alone: Beneath the green electric glare I saw men pass with hearts of stone; Yet still I heard them everywhere, The golden voices of the air: "Friend, we will go to hell with thee, Thy griefs, thy glories we will share, And rule the land and shake the sea And set a thousand devils free—:" "What dost thou, Stranger, at my side, Thou gaunt old man accosting me? Away, this is my night of pride! On Satan's horses I will ride, And I will seek delightful things." The old man answered: "Woe betide!"