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CHAPTER XX
 MAKE me thy poet, O Night, veiled Night!  
There are some who have sat speechless for ages in thy shadow; let me utter their songs.
 
Take me up on thy chariot without wheels, running noiselessly from world to world, thou queen in the palace of time, thou darkly beautiful!
 
Many a questioning mind has stealthily entered thy courtyard and roamed through thy lampless house seeking for a............
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