Who's in Tuesday's

We are two predatory hawks, we soar above and look down
Have you reckond that the landscape took substance and form that it
O earth that hast no voice, confide to me a voice
A great year and place
O wild and loose to my soulO wondrous singer!
Slender bugle note;
Shall cover thee all over
If we are lost, no victor else has destroyd us
Not in the murmurs of my dreams while I sleep
These and all else were to me the same as they are to you

Up the path you have followd me well, spite of your hundred and
Each side by the barges, the hay-boat, the belated lighter
Something that shall endure longer even than lustrous Jupiter
Demons and death then I sing
A hundred years hence, or ever so many hundred years hence, others
Yet soul be sure the first intent remains, and shall be carried out
And I said to my spirit When we become the enfolders of those orbs
Plot and conspire
Of the centripetal and centrifugal sisters, the elder and younger sisters
Surely you must know who is here, is here

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