Текст оригинала на английском языке
STALKING before the lords of life, one came, A Titan shape! But often he will crawl, Their most subservient, helpful humble thrall; Swift as the light, or sluggish, laggard, lame; Stony-eyed archer, launching without aim Arrows and lightnings, heedless how they fall,-- Blind Circumstance, that makes or baffles all, Happiness, length of days, power, riches, fame. Could we but take each winged chance aright! A timely word let fall, a wind-blown germ, May crown our glebe with many a golden sheaf; A thought may touch and edge our life with light, Fill all its sphere, as yonder crescent worm Brightens upon the old moon's dusky leaf.
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