In Progress you have little faith, say you: Men will maintain dear interests, wreak base hates, By force, and gentle women choose their mates Most amorously from the gilded fighting crew: The human heart Bellona`s mad halloo Will ever fire to dicing with the Fates. `Now at this time,` says History, `those two States Stood ready their past wrestling to renew. They sharpened arms and showed them, like the brutes Whose haunches quiver. But a yellow blight Fell on their waxing harvests. They deferred The bloody settlement of their disputes Till God should bless them better.` They did right. And naming Progress, both shall have the word.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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