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 Vision by Siegfried Sassoon 
						I love all things that pass: their briefness is Music that fades on transient silences.
 Winds, birds, and glittering leaves that flare and fall—
 They fling delight across the world; they call
 To rhythmic-flashing limbs that rove and race...
 A moment in the dawn for Youth’s lit face;
 A moment’s passion, closing on the cry—
 ‘O Beauty, born of lovely things that die!’
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