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The Wild Duck

TwilightT.

Red in the West.

Dimness.

A glow on the wood.

The teams plod home to rest.

The wild duck come to glean.

O souls not understood,

What a wild cry in the pool;

What things have the farm ducks

That they cry so--huddle and cry?

Only the soul that goes.

Eager.

Eager.

Flying.

Over the globe of the moon,

Over the wood that glows.

Wings linked.

Necks a-strain,

A rush and a wild crying.

A cry of the long

In the reeds of a steel lagoon,

In a land that no man knows.

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John Masefield

John Edward Masefield OM (/ˈmeɪsˌfiːld, ˈmeɪz-/; 1 June 1878 – 12 May 1967) was an English poet and writer, and Poet Laureate from 1930 until 19…

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