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the bright door of Heaven whose golden bars Exclude the interchange of Night and Day, Crowned with soft light, attired with shining stars, Dwell the great Gods in durable array. In all that land no frost, no fever mars Their timeless periods of pomp and play: Some drive about the Rim in painted cars, And others drink eternity away. The trumpet of their pride Proclaims them glorified In chronicles of unremembered sway; And lady Goddesses Surround with sweet caress Their ivied paramours. "O rest!" they say: "Here at our gentle bosoms lie,