QUITS! Beyond the last hill stands a row Of poplars sighing, Amid the dwellings where dreams go. When they are dying. One side the stream, a pleasure ground Where they carouse; On the far side, with yew-trees bound, The lazar-house. And when the night has riven with stars The veil of day, I see their drunken half-shapes pass By the stream way. "O dreams, O guests, who poisoned night With leprosy; Amid the stream and the moonlight Oh, think on me!"
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