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THE END AND THE BEGINNING
The deed is done, O Kings: the blood is shed:
The sword is broken:—broken, too, the Cross.
But she, the mother eternal of the dead,
Though sorrow-laden, smiles at the loss.
You go down grimed with the blood and smoke of wars;
Your armies scattered and your banners furled;
She comes down covered with the dust of stars,
And gives her life again to build the world.
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