Astronomy

by A. E. Housman

　　

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The Wain upon the northern steep Descends and lifts away. Oh I will sit me down and weep For bones in Africa. For pay and medals, name and rank, Things that he has not found, He hove the Cross to heaven and sank The pole-star underground. And now he does not even see Signs of the nadir roll At night over the ground where he Is buried with the pole.

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