A Thorn Forever in the Breast
A HUNGRY cancer will not let him restWhose heart is loyal to the least of dreams;There is a thorn forever in his breastWho cannot take his world for what it seems;Aloof and lonely must he ever walk,Plying a strange and unaccustomed tongue,An alien to the daily round of talk,Mute when the sordid songs of earth are sung.
This is the certain end his dream achieves:He sweats his blood and prayers while others sleep,And shoulders his own coffin up a steepImmortal mountain, there to meet his doomBetween two wretched dying men, of whomOne doubts, and one for pity's sake believes.
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