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Oftener by the claw of dragon
Than the hand of friend,
Guides the little one predestined
To the native land.
A long, long sleep, a famous sleep
That makes no show for dawn
By stretch of limb or stir of lid, --
An independent one.
Was ever idleness like this?
Within a hut of stone
To bask the centuries away
Nor once look up for noon?

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