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We lie and listen to the hissing waves, Wherein our boat seems sharpening its keel, Which on the sea's face all unthankful graves An arrowed scratch as with a tool of steel. - In a Music-Hall and Other Poems (l. 17) [Boating] From fear in every guise, From sloth, from love of pelf, By war's great sacrifice The world redeems itself. - War Song [War]
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