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WE overstate the ills of life, and take Imagination (given us to bring down The choirs of singing angels overshone By God's clear glory) down our earth to rake The dismal snows instead, flake following flake, To cover all the corn; we walk upon The s (Elizabeth Barrett Browning)

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You see this dog. It was but yesterday I mused, forgetful of his presence here, Till thought on thought drew downward tear on tear; When from the pillow, where wet-cheeked I lay, A head as hairy as Faunus, thrust its way Right sudden against my face,—two golden-clear Large eyes astonished mine,—a drooping ear Did flap me on either cheek, to dry the spray! I started first, as some Arcadian Amazed by goatly god in twilight grove: But as my bearded vision closelier ran My tears off, I knew Flush, and rose above Surprise and sadness; thanking the true Pan, Who, by low creatures, leads to heights of love. Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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