| I hear an army charging upon the land
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| And the thunder of horses plunging, foam about their knees:
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| Arrogant, in black armour, behind them stand
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| Disdaining the reins, with flutt’ring whips, the charioteers
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| They cry unto the night their battlename:
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| I moan in sleep when I hear afar their whirling laughter
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| They cleave the gloom of dreams, a blinding flame
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| Clanging, clanging upon the heart as upon an anvil
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| They come shaking in triumph their long, green hair:
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| They come out of the sea and run shouting by the shore
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| My heart, have you no wisdom thus to despair?
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| My love, my love, why have you left me alone? |