AS when the hunt by holt and field Drives on with horn and strife, Hunger of hopeless things pursues Our spirits throughout life. The sea`s roar fills us aching full Of objectless desire - The sea`s roar, and the white moon-shine, And the reddening of the fire. Who talks to me of reason now? It would be more delight To have died in Cleopatra`s arms Than be alive to-night.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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