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With every morn my life afresh must break
The crust of self, gathered about me fresh;
That thy wind-spirit may rush in and shake
The darkness out of me, and rend the mesh
The spider-devils spin out of the flesh—
Eager to net the soul before it wake,
That it may slumberous lie, and listen to the snake.
- George MacDonald, A Book of Strife in the Form of The Diary of an Old Soul
Wow that is such a cool shot Beth!!
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