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Rh That the great World continueth evermore; And now the World Himself saith unto us, 'Lo! I am ended! there is no more of me!' Moreover, marching on with our sick Leader, Whom we support, astounded we discern Dwellings of white men, mountains of white stone With caves therein! and, yet more wonderful, Upon the water, rolling near inshore, A painted floating town, with fronting idol! A giant bird with great white flapping wings, Whose thunderous rebellion men that swarm In windy, reeling heights are conquering By strong enveloping of resolute arms! Then, trusting to the word of our good Father, Half timidly we climb the floating town, Whose common soldiers, mariners, and chiefs Pay joyful homage to our own dear lord; And all of them have kindly hearts for us. But round the wooden walls dark, iron mouths Of demons gape; whence, being touch'd with fire, Leap thunderous lightnings, Genii clothed in smoke!