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406 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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Many a homeward-bound, as they lift the frowning Foreland, Pants to leap the league to his desolate Gweedore.
There about the ways God's air is free and spacious: Warm are chimney-corners there, warm the kindly heart.
There the soul of man takes root, and through its travail Grips the rocky anchorage till the life-strings part. |
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