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When we stand on the tops of Things
And like the Trees, look down
The smoke all cleared away from it
And Mirrors on the scene
Just laying light—no soul will wink
Except it have the flaw
The Sound ones, like the Hills—shall stand
No Lighting, scares away
The Perfect, nowhere be afraid
They bear their dauntless Heads
Where others, dare not go at Noon
Protected by their deeds
The Stars dare shine occasionally
Upon a spotted World
And Suns, go surer, for their Proof
As if an Axle, held