The Clerks by Edwin Arlington Robinson

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I DID not think that I should find them there

When I came back again; but there they stood, / As in the days they dreamed of when young blood

Was in their cheeks and women called them fair.

Be sure, they met me with an ancient air, -

And yes, there was a shop-worn brotherhood

About them; but the men were just as good, / And just as human as they ever were.

And you that ache so much to be sublime, / And you that feed yourselves with your descent,

What comes of all your visions and your fears?

Poets and kings are but the clerks of Time, / Tiering the same dull webs of discontent, / Clipping the same sad alnage of the years.

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