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TRAURIGKEIT.
I KNOW not what unheeded grace
Waits its sweet time for me;
I see the future's silent sails
Across the past's dark sea.
I dream my high dreams when the flag
Of sunset is unfurl'd, -
When the red mists of morning break
Over a desolate world.
My dreams are they: the destiny
That shall be mine again
Is a dim mirror, and the face
It shows is white with pain.
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