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Friday, April 1, 2016
A noiseless, patient spider,
A noiseless, patient
spider, I mark’d,
where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated; Mark’d
how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding, It
launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself; Ever
unreeling them—ever tirelessly speeding them. And you,
O my spirit, where you stand, Surrounded,
surrounded, in measureless oceans of space, Ceaselessly
musing, venturing, throwing,—seeking the spheres, to connect them; Till the
bridge you will need, be form’d—till the ductile anchor hold; Till the
gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.
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