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XXXII. [From far, from eve and morning]

by A. E. Housman, 1896

From far, from eve and morning
 And yon twelve-winded sky,
The stuff of life to knit me
 Blew hither: here am I.

Now- for a breath I tarry
 Nor yet disperse apart-
Take my hand quick and tell me,
 What have you in your heart.

Speak now, and I will answer;
 How shall I help you, say;
Ere to the wind's twelve quarters
 I take my endless way.

Published in A Shropshire Lad
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