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Shores Of Ithakathings fall apart the centre cannot holdmere anarchy is loosed upon this world the blood-dimmed tide is loosed - and everywhere the ceremony of innocence drowned the best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity a woundress lesson in thy silent face makes a god of me oh bright elixier peerless I had drunk and so become - immortal real shadows of the indignant desert birds the darkness drops again but now I know that twenty centuries of stony sleep were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle and what rough beast it�s hour comes round at last slouches towards Bethlehem to be born a woundress lesson in thy silent face makes a god of me oh bright elixier peerless I had drunk majestic, sovran voices agonies names and deeds creations and destroyings all at once pour into my brain and deify - me |