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On many paths I've sought to tread, But still turned back defeated; With countless projects in my head Have never one completed.
And now a life I feel was meant Some good deed to achieve, Can scarce do aught (so far 'tis spent) Its promise to retrieve.
Oh! that myself I might but find Ere fate rings down the curtain, And no more wander, sick and blind, Where naught is plain or certain!
1897

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