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- PAUDEEN
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- INDIGNANT at the fumbling wits, the obscure spite
- Of our old paudeen in his shop, I stumbled blind
- Among the stones and thorn-trees, under morning light;
- Until a curlew cried and in the luminous wind
- A curlew answered; and suddenly thereupon I thought
- That on the lonely height where all are in God's eye,
- There cannot be, confusion of our sound forgot,
- A single soul that lacks a sweet crystalline cry.
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