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Some souls are strangers in this bourne; / Beauty is born from such men's discontent; / Earth's grass and stones, / Her seas, her forests, and her air / Are seas and forests till they mirror on some pool / Unusually reflecting in an exile's mind, / Who tarries here protesting and alone; / And then they get strange shapes from memories of other stars / The banished knew, or spheres he dreams will be.
Thus is the fivefold vision of the earth recast / By ghostly alchemy.