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--But there's a Tree, of many, one, A single Field which I have looked upon, Both of them speak of something that is gone: The Pansy at my feet Doth the same tale repeat: Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now, the glory and the dream? -William Wordsworth (1770-1850), Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood |
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