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And are there such?—Such candidates there are
For more than death; for utter loss of being;
Being, the basis of the Deity!
Ask you the cause?—The cause they will not tell:
Nor need they: O the sorceries of Sense!
They work this transformation on the soul,
Dismount her, like the serpent at the fall,
Dismount her from her native wing, (which soar'd
Erewhile ethereal heights,) and throw her down,
To lick the dust, and crawl in such a thought.