Forth From His Dark And Lonely Hiding-place, (portentous Sight!) The Owlet Atheism, Sailing On Obscene Wings Athwart The Noon, Drops His Blue-fringed Lids, And Holds Them Close, And Hooting At The Glorious Sun In Heaven, Cries Out, ''where Is It?''
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Forth From His Dark And Lonely Hiding-place,
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Forth From His Dark And Lonely Hiding-place, (portentous Sight!) The Owlet Atheism, Sailing On Obscene Wings Athwart The Noon, Drops His Blue-fringed Lids, And Holds Them Close, And Hooting At The Glorious Sun In Heaven, Cries Out, ''where Is It?''
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