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The Survival

To-day’€™s house makes to-morrow’€™s road;
I knew these heaps of stone
When they were walls of grace and might,
The country’€™s honour, art’€™s delight
That over fountain’€™d silence show’€™d
Fame’€™s final bastion.
Inheritance has found fresh work,
Disunion union breeds;
Beauty the strong, its difference lost,
Has matter fit for flood and frost.
Here’€™s the true blood that will not shirk
Life’€™s new-commanding needs.
With curious costly zeal, O man,
Raise orrery and ode;
How shines your tower, the only one
Of that especial site and stone!
And even the dream’€™s confusion can
Sustain to-morrow’€™s road.
Other works by Edmund Blunden...



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