"In a world of universal poverty The philosophers alone will be fat Against the autumn winds In an autumn that will be perpetual."

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Listen to the Water-Mill: Through the live-long day How the clicking of its wheel Wears the hours away! Languidly the Autumn wind Stirs the forest leaves, From the field the reapers sing Binding up their sheaves: And a proverb haunts my mind As a spell is cast, "The mill cannot grind With the water that is past.

— Sarah Doudney