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THE HOUR-GLASS
155
As it were a polished mirror that reflects
An unchanged world; and not when the steel melts,
Bubbling and hissing, till there's naught but fume.
Wise Man
When it is melted, when it all fumes up,
They walk, as when beside those three in the furnace
The form of the fourth.
First Pupil
Master, there's none among us
That has not heard your mockery of these,
Or thoughts like these, and we have not forgot.
Wise Man
Something incredible has happened—some one has come