Nothing in life has been made by man for man's using But it was shown long since to man in ages Lost as the name of the maker of it, Who received oppression and shame for his wages, Hate, avoidance, and scorn in his daily dealings, Until he perished, wholly confounded More to be pitied than he are the wise Souls which foresaw the evil of loosing Knowledge or Art before time, and aborted Noble devices and deep-wrought healings, Lest offence should arise. Heaven delivers on earth the Hour that cannot be thwarted, Neither advanced, at the price of a world nor a soul, and its Prophet Comes through the blood of the vanguards who dreamed, too soon, it had sounded.
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