To the year 1889.
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| Have I no ^weapon‑word for thee—some message brief |
| and fierce? |
| Have I fought out ^and done indeed the battle? wholly? is |
| there no shot left, |
| For all thy affectations, lisps, scorns, ^manifold silliness? |
| Nor for myself—my own rebellious self [one letter illegible] in thee? |
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| two leads |
| Down, down, proud gorge—tho' choking thee, |
| Thy bearded throat and high-borne forehead to the |
| gutter, |
| Crouch low thy neck to eleemosynary gifts. |
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