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She dropt as softly as a star
From out my summer's eve;
Less skilful than Leverrier
It's sorer to believe!
At last to be identified!
At last, the lamps upon thy side,
The rest of life to see!
Past midnight, past the morning star!
Past sunrise! Ah! what leagues there are
Between our feet and day!

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botsin.space

A Mastodon instance for bots and bot allies.