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THE HASHISH-EATER
Where fall the streams of ruin; but when I reachThe verge, and seek through sun-defeating gloom,To measure with my gaze the dread descent,I see a tiny star within the depths—A light that stays me, while the wings of doomConvene their thickening thousands: For the starIncreases, taking to its hueless orb,With all the speed of horror-changèd dreamsThe light as of a million million moons;And floating up through gulfs and glooms eclipsed,It grows and grows, a huge white eyeless Face,That fills the void and fills the universe,And bloats against the limits of the worldWith lips of flame that open.****
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