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 Cobwebs by Christina Rossetti 
						It is a land with neither night nor day, Nor heat nor cold, nor any wind, nor rain,
 Nor hills nor valleys; but one even plain
 Stretches thro' long unbroken miles away:
 While thro' the sluggish air a twilight grey
 Broodeth; no moons or seasons wax and wane,
 No ebb and flow are there among the main,
 No bud-time no leaf-falling there for aye,
 No ripple on the sea, no shifting sand,
 No beat of wings to stir the stagnant space,
 And loveless sea: no trace of days before,
 No guarded home, no time-worn restingplace
 No future hope no fear forevermore.
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