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134 If it were just to-day That we did live and die ; If our doing would pass away, When our power in the grave did lie ; But we know that the dust in the wheel-tracks of time Is retarding, or helping, a progress sublime. If we could calmly rise Just for a moment's breath, To the height of the clear blue skies, To the level of life — and death ; But the anger within us, the anger without, Ever stirring our zeal, hold it molten in doubt.