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Will you conduct the stars tonight?
The orchestra is gone,
But ready floats the firmament—
Awaiting your baton.
And all the tales of Helios,
And chariots of dawn,
Echo in the atmospheres,
Where lines cannot be drawn.
In the ears of all the Earth,
The symphony does rage—
A million voices, but you stand
Alone upon the stage.
And spinning in the vortices,
A moment is an age—
And multitudes of constellations,
Sketches on a page.
Is it such a simple thing
To sail upon the air?
To look into the indigo,
And all at once be there?
But borne aloft on ringing song
Of golden bells, beware:
Nothing is impossible
That's possible to dare.
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