POEMS.
THE SPHINX.
The Sphinx is drowsy,
Her wings are furled;
Her ear is heavy,
She broods on the world.
"Who'll tell me my secret,
The ages have kept?—
I awaited the seer,
While they slumbered and slept;—
"The fate of the man-child;
The meaning of man;
Known fruit of the unknown;
Dædalian plan;
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