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Delmore Schwartz - The Sin Of HamletDelmore Schwartz - The Sin Of Hamlet
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The horns in the harbor booming, vaguely, Fog, forgotten, yesterday, conclusion, Nostalgic, noising dim sorrow, calling To sleep is it? I think so, and childhood, Not the door opened and the stair descended, The voice answered, the choice announced, the Trigger touched in the sharp declaration! And when it comes, escape is small; the door Creaks; the worms of fear spread veins; the furtive Fugitive, looking backward, sees his Ghost in the mirror, his shameful eyes, his mouth diseased.
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