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Alchemist, v. 1, issue 4, December 1940
Page 29
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[header] ALCHEMIST 29 [/header] CLAMORS Bess Foster Smith Such luck! A MAN, drowned! Swashed around On the sea's floor To my very door! Now he is mine And I will dine As piece be piece divides With flowing tides. Man is self-willed. He wants to build Ships, trains, cars, planes, Envious of birds. But why waste words! Why all the glamour? I should now waste A single taste Or stop to clamor! Still What a thrill Must fill The beast that knows no fear! He knows a way To pray That brings him near Enough to his God! Odd I should envy man, While here I can Safe in my shell, Live well. But I am slow and dumb' Not venturesome. That must be why I am Still - just - A CLAM.
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[header] ALCHEMIST 29 [/header] CLAMORS Bess Foster Smith Such luck! A MAN, drowned! Swashed around On the sea's floor To my very door! Now he is mine And I will dine As piece be piece divides With flowing tides. Man is self-willed. He wants to build Ships, trains, cars, planes, Envious of birds. But why waste words! Why all the glamour? I should now waste A single taste Or stop to clamor! Still What a thrill Must fill The beast that knows no fear! He knows a way To pray That brings him near Enough to his God! Odd I should envy man, While here I can Safe in my shell, Live well. But I am slow and dumb' Not venturesome. That must be why I am Still - just - A CLAM.
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