I hear your promise booming and obey.

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“This forest lies a thousand miles, perhaps,

Beyond where I am come. And farther still

The rivers wander seaward with smooth lapse,

And there is cliff and cottage, tower and hill.

Somewhere, before the world’s end, I shall fill

My spirit at earth’s pap. For earth must hold

One rich thing sealed as Dymer’s from of old.

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