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Commemoration

I sat by the granite pillar, and sunlight fellWhere the sunlight fell of old,And the hour was the hour my heart remembered well,And the sermon rolled and rolledAs it used to roll when the place was still unhaunted,And the strangest tale in the world was still untold.
And I knew that of all this rushing of urgent soundThat I so clearly heard,The green young forest of saplings clustered roundWas heeding not one word:Their heads were bowed in a still serried patienceSuch as an angel's breath could never have stirred.
For some were already away to the hazardous pitch,Or lining the parapet wall,And some were in glorious battle, or great and rich,Or throned in a college hall:And among the rest was one like my own young phantom,Dreaming for ever beyond my utmost call.

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