Where the quiet-coloured end of evening smiles,Miles and milesOn the solitary pastures where our sheepHalf-asleepTinkle homeward thro' the twilight, stray or stopAs they crop---Was the site once of a city great and gay,(So they say)Of our country's very capital, its princeAges sinceHeld his court in, gathered councils, wielding farPeace or war.
Oh heart! oh blood that freezes, blood that burns!Earth's returnsFor whole centuries of folly, noise and sin!Shut them in,With their triumphs and their glories and the rest!Love is best.
- Robert Browning
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