Not any more to be lacked,
Not any more to be known—
Denizens of
Significance
For a span so worn—
Even Nature, Herself,
Has forgot it is there—
Too elate of her multitudes
To retain despair.
Of the ones that pursued it
Suing it not to go—
Some have solaced the longing
To accompany;
Some rescinded the wrench—
Others—shall I say?
Plated the residue of
Woe
With monotony.
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