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 And in the stillness he could hear His secret thoughts draw very near And call to him.

Faint voices lifted shrill with pain And multitudinous as rain; From all the lands And all the villages thereof Men crying for the gift of love With outstretched hands.

Voices that called with ceaseless crying, The broken and the blind, the dying, And those grown dumb Beneath oppression, and he heard Upon their lips a single word, "Come!"

Their cries engulfed him like the night, The moon put out her placid light And black and low