I can hum a fugue of which I've heard the music's din afore, And whistle all the airs from that infernal nonsense Pinafore.
And broader still became the blaze, and louder still the din, And fast from every village round the horse came spurring in.
It will be a gay world. There will be lights everywhere except in the minds of men, and the fall of the last civilization will not be heard above the din.
These beauteous forms, Through a long absence, have not been to me As is a landscape to a blind man's eye: But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din Of towns and cities, I have owed to them, In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart.
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