GENIUS

A HUNDRED generations have gone into its making, , With all their love and tenderness, with all their

dreams and tears; Their vanished joy and pleasure, their pain and their

heart-breaking, Have colored this rare blossom of the long-unfruit-

ful years.

Their victory and their laughter for this have strong men given, For this have sweet, dead women paid in patience

which survives— That a great soul might bring the world, as from the

gate of heaven, All that was rich and beautiful in those forgotten

lives.

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