„And the poor in their fireless lodgings, dropping the sheetsOf the evening paper: “Our day is our loss, O show usHistory the operator, theOrganiser, Time the refreshing river.” And the nations combine each cry, invoking the lifeThat shapes the individual belly and ordersThe private nocturnal terror:”Did you not found the city state of the sponge,”Raise the vast military empires of the sharkAnd the tiger, establish the robin’s plucky canton?Intervene. Descend as a dove orA furious papa or a mild engineer, but descend.”“

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