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Alma Mater
Alma Mater

He knocked, and I beheld him at the door –
A vision for the gods to verify.
“What battered ancientry is this,” thought I,
“And when, if ever, did we meet before?”

But ask him as I might, I got no more
For answer than a moaning and a cry:
Too late to parley, but in time to die,
He staggered, and lay sharpeless on the floor.

When had I known him? And what brought him here?
Love, warning, malediction, hunger, fear?
Surly I never thwarted such as he? –

Again, what soiled obscurity was this:
Out of what scum, and up from what abyss,
Had they arrived – these rags of memory?

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