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FAME.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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FAME.

I saw in dreams a long and wavering way
That wound and wound toward the walls of day.
Like a great snake on a wide moor it lay.
At either road-edge there were men who kneeled,
Some with bowed countenances half revealed,
Some crying drearly, some whose lips were sealed.

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Ill might you say what presence or what thing
They waited, in their watchful cowering,
As suppliants wait the advent of a king.
And now there moved a murmur through them all,
For a vast shape, fantastically tall,
Came gliding on, with pace majestical.
In shadowy and indeterminate wise
Fluttered and mistlike draperies of its guise;
Its face was vaguely stern, with scornful eyes.
In either hand it carried bounteous bays,
Wrought greenly into wreaths of braided sprays,
As were the old chaplets of the dead Greek days.
And wheresoe'er that journeying spirit came,
They caught his vaporous robe, they wailed his name,
While many a faded face was touched with flame.
But rarely, very rarely, he bent down,
Mixed with a languid smile his august frown,
And dropt on some low brow a glimmering crown.
Then, just as my strange dream was like to cease,
His face drew near, and on its haughty peace
I read unbounded tyranny of caprice!