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Excerpt from The Demon of Destiny; And Other Poems
Than those in whose similitudes they loom; Yet no seduction of their art's like truth, Trusting the in¿uence of our earthy nature fill transmutate, in time, good into ill.
Nor have they foresight; they can but discern, By some keen scrutiny of things that are, The probables of what may come to pass; High Heaven alone foresees approaching Fate.
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