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- A WOMAN HOMER SUNG
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- IF any man drew near
- When I was young,
- I thought, "He holds her dear,'
- And shook with hate and fear.
- But O! 'twas bitter wrong
- If he could pass her by
- With an indifferent eye.
- Whereon I wrote and wrought,
- And now, being grey,
- I dream that I have brought
- To such a pitch my thought
- That coming time can say,
- "He shadowed in a glass
- What thing her body was.'
- For she had fiery blood
- When I was young,
- And trod so sweetly proud
- As 'twere upon a cloud,
- A woman Homer sung,
- That life and letters seem
- But an heroic dream.
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