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would I dwell in your faery kingdom, O faery queen of a flowering clime, Where life glides by to a delicate measure, With the glamour and grace of a far-off time.

Fain would I dwell where your wild doves wander, Your palm-woods burgeon and sea-winds sing. . . . Lulled by the rune of the rhythmic waters, In your Island of Bliss it is always spring.

Yet must I go where the loud world beckons, And the urgent drum-beat of destiny calls, Far from your white dome's luminous slumber, Far from the dream of your fortress walls,

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