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MATTHEW ARNOLD
And milk-barr'd onyx stones. The loaded boat swings groaning In the yellow eddies. The Gods behold them.
They see the Heroes
Sitting in the dark ship
On the foamless, long-heaving,
Violet sea:
At sunset nearing
The Happy Islands.
These things, Ulysses, The wise Bards also Behold and sing. But oh, what labour' O Prince, what pain '
They too can sec Tiresias but the Gods, Who give them vision, Added this law: That they should bear too His groping blindness, His dark foreboding, His scorn'd white hairs; Bear Hera's anger Through a life lengthen'd To seven ages.
They see the Centaurs On Pelion. then they feel, They too, the maddening wine Swell their large veins to bursting, in wild pai
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