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Ir gardens I saw ever the same flowers, and none perfect. At their feasts I tasted ever the<br />
same food, and none that m <img src="cid:4cb0c4ac4df8e350.XWPi07"> ade an end of hunger. In their talk I heard ever the same words, and none that went to the depth of thought. The very quietude and fixity of their being perplexed and estranged me.<br />
What to them was permanent, to me was
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