in "III: 'Boswell by my bed, Tolstoy on my table'"
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[0] => To those who are isolate / War comes, promising respite, / Making what seems to be up to the moment the most successful endeavour / Against the fort of the failed spirit that is alone for ever. / Spurious failed spirit, adamantine wasture, / Crop, spirit, crop thy stony pasture!|c
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