<SPAN name="QUOTIDIAN_VISION"></SPAN>QUOTIDIAN VISION.<br/>
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There is a sadness in the street,<br/>
And sullenly the folk I meet<br/>
Droop their heads as they walk along,<br/>
Without a smile, without a song.<br/>
A mist of cold and muffling grey<br/>
Falls, fold by fold, on another day<br/>
That dies unwept. But suddenly,<br/>
Under a tunnelled arch I see<br/>
On flank and haunch the chestnut gleam<br/>
Of horses in a lamplit steam;<br/>
And the dead world moves for me once more<br/>
With beauty for its living core.<br/>
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