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Nothing seemed to matter in that renown,
Nor life, nor mortal dread, nor graciousness;
Nought all that we cherish had worth, except
The demiurge of the spirit. Amazed,
And hastening, the splendid god climbed down
The eleventh step and, as the door opened,
An optimist will walked everywhere.

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Then the blaze had arrived and the heat had scorched her small body, the mother had remained steadfast... because she had been willing to die, so those under the cover of her wings would live.

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