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<h2> UNAVAILING </h2>
<p>“Never,” you said, “never this side the grave,<br/>
And what shall come hereafter, who may know?<br/>
Whether we e’en shall guess the way we go,<br/>
Passing beneath Death’s mystic architrave<br/>
<br/>
Silence or song, dumb sleep or cheerful hours?”<br/>
O lady, you have questioned, answer too.<br/>
You—you to die—silence and gloom for you:<br/>
Dead song, dead lights, dead graces, and dead flowers?<br/>
<br/>
It is not so: the foolish trivial end,<br/>
The inconsequent paltry Nothing—gone—gone all;<br/>
The genius of the ageless Something spend<br/>
<br/>
Itself within this little earthly wall:<br/>
The commonplace conception, that we reap<br/>
Reward of drudge and ploughman—idle sleep!<br/></p>
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