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Show ®n a iauut of QDrncral QDl'ant A face all prose where Time's (benignant] haze Softens no raw edge yet, nor makes all fair With the beguiling light of vanished days; This is relentless-granite, bleak and bare, Roughhewn, and scornful of ::esthetic phrase; Nothing is here for fancy, naught for dreams, The Present's hard uncompromising light Accents all vulgar outlines, flaws, and seams, Yet vindicates some pristine natural right O'ertopping that hereditary grace Which marks the gain or loss of some time-fondled race. So Marius looked, methinks, and Cromwell so, Not in the purple born, to those they led 43 |