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e n dr e ady | 81 On Elijah’s Wain The Lord, as Elijah, takes all those, The ones he loves and smites with pains: He gives them their swift and flaming hearts, And those, then, are the fiery wains. The Elijah-folk rush at the Sky, To halt at eternal winter’s reign, On Himalaya’s ice-bitten crests Groans on in clouds of dust their wain. Grief-homeless still, between Earth and Sky, Driven by the winds of Fate they strain: Toward that beautiful, baleful chill Gallops Elijah’s fiery wain. Their hearts are burning, their brains are ice, The Earth laughs at their hope and trust: But on their ice-road the ruthful Sun Sprinkles a frigid diamond-dust. 1908 ...

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