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Edmund Clarence Stedman (Эдмунд Кларенс Стедман) On a Great Man Whose Mind Is Clouding That sovereign thought obscured? That vision clear Dimmed in the shadow of the sable wing, And fainter grown the fine interpreting Which as an oracle was ours to hear! Nay, but the Gods reclaim not from the seer Their gift,—although he ceases here to sing, And, like the antique sage, a covering Draws round his head, knowing what change is near. 1882 Edmund Clarence Stedman's other poems:
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