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...We receive but what we give,
And in our life alone does nature live:
Ours is her wedding garment, ours her shroud!

...thou need'st not ask of me
What this strong music in the soul may be!
What, and wherein it doth exist,
This light, this glory, this fair luminous mist,
This beautiful and beauty-making power.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge, "Dejection: An Ode"

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