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Somewhere a pipe organ plays the oldest, lowest sound from a fifty-foot pipe— ,
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haystack, haystack, haystack. The only difference
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However, I, poor fool, have never known
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Rilke ends his sonnet “Archaic Torso of Apollo” saying
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and there was a new voice
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And what did you want?
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Light takes new attribute
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I’ve a raft of you left over
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What I call progress is antiquity
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I want the tree that stands
