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Hear now the song of those bright shapes that shine Huge as Leviathans, tasting the fare Delicate-sweet, while scented dews divine Thrill from the ground and clasp the rosy air.— "Sing on, sing out, and reach a hand for wine! For the drunken Earth spins softly afloat down there, And the stars burn low, and the sky is sapphirine, And the little winds of Space are in our hair! The little winds of Space Blow in the Love-god's face, The only God that lacks not praise and prayer; Who sole preserves his power While dynasties devour Temples and shrines and stones without repair. Still he goes forth as strong as ten,