I. THE WEST
Beyond the moor and the mountain crest—Comrade, look not on the west—The sun is down and drinks awayFrom air and land the lees of day.The long cloud and the single pineSentinel the ending line,And out beyond it, clear and wan,Reach the gulfs of evening on.The son of woman turns his browWest from forty countries now,And, as the edge of heaven he eyes,Thinks eternal thoughts, and sighs.Oh wide's the world, to rest or...
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