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| What of the hunting, hunter bold? - Brother, the watch was long and cold. What of the quarry ye went to kill? - Brother, he crops in the jungle still. Where is the power that made you pride? - Brother, it ebbs from my flank and side. Where is the haste that ye hurry by? - Brother, I go to my lair to die. |
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Rudyard Kipling, 1894
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