The earth has covered Sicilian Syracuse, there asphodel grows, As golden-rod will over New York. What tragic labors, passions, oppressions, cruelties and courage Reared the great city. Nothing remains But stones and a memory haunting the fields of returning asphodel. You have seen through the trick to the beauty; If we all saw through it, the trick would hardly entice us and the earth Be the poorer by many beautiful agonies.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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