Again from ocean's buried realms they rise, Drowsy with their long sleep, the unshrived dead, To speak with their thin voices of the Past That lies beyond tradition. Now we see In fancy's thoughts the land before the Flood: Again they stand, the battlements and towers Against the azure skies: Again those Atlantean temples rise, And thronging pathways crown the heaving waves: The voices of the Past speak yet again; In dreams we hear them and we see the crowds That dared the doom of vengeance. B-M.…
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