“Now hollow fires burn out to black,And lights are fluttering low:Square your shoulders, lift your packAnd leave your friends and go.O never fear, lads, naught’s to dread,Look not left nor right: In all the endless road you treadThere’s nothing but the night.”

A.E. Housman

A.E. Housman - “Now hollow fires burn out to black,And...” 1

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