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The world was rent asunder by the mind, And, once cleaved, bore thought. This moment of eternal recurrence Washed coconuts to an island shore, Drowned Alexandria, with all her books, in brine, And seduced yon brutes to Crusade. Is it surprising then, That at a remote lake, over a fine evening, I should say upon the appearance of geese, "Notice their flockiness?" While you, sharing the same soil, should note the sun's languor, as it sighs inaudibly over the water.