CANTO I    Atop this olden dust horsemen ride,  Under the sunshine, beneath raindrops,  Underneath the snowflakes, below hail,  Their breaths abide warm, their lungs exhale,  Loving and abhorring their hearts bring-  As life, the-endless-fowl beats wings on,  Hours of darkness drop on the aged dust  Like twigs befallen by raven’s wing-  Many raven skies quit like water  Evaporates, men act epic songs  Yet love though soft, ‘tis a vast matter-  Be it love that goes down from the-blue  And feeds dampness to seedlings in leas;  Be it love that nailed the-Christ to tree;  Or love flung from saintly chests like pants,  Heading towards the crown of Heaven;  Or lusty love that flows like river,  With only twain shores, hearts of lovers;  Be it the love apt to burn if bits  Of a mother’s soul is in her arms,  Slurping her nipple’s milk into the  Tender embrace of a toothless mouth-  In this ever playing earthly ride,  Sons-of-Eve are dim casts taking sides  In a grand conflict that was ere t...
 
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