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To Matthew Arnold in England.

Master, with this I send you, as a boy
that watches from below some cross-bow bird
swoop on his quarry carried up aloft,
and cries a cry of victory to his flight
with sheer joy of achievement—So to you
I send my voice across the sundering sea,
weak, lost within the winds and surfy waves,
but with all glad acknowledgment fulfilled
and honour to you and to sovran Truth!

January, 1886.

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