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A STAR COMES SINGING

Has blown through my singing branches, and garnered my fruit.
The trees will die, and I among them;Out of the rock arising, into the rock descending.
I shall not see what comes—My scattering body and scattering soulWill travel unguessed ways,Never again assembling as one;Each vibrant bit of me will speed on its way,Filling its restless part in the earth's gray voyage.
XII.
Prayer
I pray, for me and for all men,To that which sees and feels and knows,The god that grows in me and all things living,That I may stay as long as may be in the gleam:That I may never lose the power to see,Piercing through all cloudy fancies and delusionsToward the shining core of truth outshining all things.
That I may never yield poison into the world.

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