The Race
This mighty dream of the race!
When, O when will it die?
When the magic of being burns from the blood,
When the violet fades from the sky,
When the mother turns from her child,
When the son his father spurns: —
And the blood of the mightiest race on earth
To bloodless water turns.
When, O when will it die?
When the magic of being burns from the blood,
When the violet fades from the sky,
When the mother turns from her child,
When the son his father spurns: —
And the blood of the mightiest race on earth
To bloodless water turns.
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