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Samuel Coleridge-TaylorFarewell! The soft mists of the sunset-skySlowly enfold his fading birch-canoe!Farewell! His dark, his desolate forests cry,Moved to their vast, their sorrowful depths anew.Fading! Nay, lifted thro' a heaven of light,His proud sails, brightening thro' that crimson flame,Leaving us lonely on the shores of night,Home to Ponemah take his deathless fame.Generous as a child, so wholly freeFrom all base pride, that fools forgot his crown,He adored Beauty, in pure ecstasy,And waived the mere rewards of his renown.The spark that falls from heaven not oft on earth,To human hearts this vital splendour gives;His was the simple, true, immortal birth!Scholars compose; but This Man's Music Lives!Greater than England or than Earth discerned,He never paltered with his art for gain,When many a vaunted crown to dust is turned,This uncrowned king shall take his throne and reign.
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