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Rh Oh, the desperate dumb clinging Of the unbelieving hands! Oh, the nerves grown dull with flinging Up the mind's o'er-written sands All the fleetingness of wonder, All the moment's cresting foam, That withdrawing leaves thereunder Vanishing, dim legends where it clomb.

Unforgotten, unremembered Shall thy beauty haunt the brain Like old magic cities embered Where the golden sunsets wane;—

Ah, my love let be to-morrow! All to-morrow is is now, All we'd lose and all we'd borrow;— Laugh, and prove all time more brief than thou.