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They saw, with a pale face and sunken,
and their gaze is fear to see,
because they think you saw their angels in their place,
with eyes that are meant for the gods; -
"How long," they said, "How long, O a cruel nation.
Will you stand, to move the whole world, in the heart of a child,
Hold the heel and palpitations.
And tread forward toward your throne in the middle of the market.
Our blood is spurting, O our tyranny,
And your purple shews your path.
But the Child's sob curseth deeper in the silence
Than the strong man in his wrath.
The poem concludes with two lines above.
Classified keseratuh fifty of these poems is conclution.
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