Lila R. Munro Tainter.

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Caravel of SDreams

A BOOK OF VERSE

BY
LILA MUNRO TAINTER




BOSTON

SHERMAN, FRENCH 6- COMPANY
1914



COPYRIGHT, 1914
SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY



TO

MY HUSBAND

AND

MY MOTHER



ACKNOWLEDGMENT

The poems entitled " Young Love is Dead,"
" The Captive," " Sleep," were first published
in the Smart Set; " The Undiscovered Coun-
try," in the International; " A Sleighing Song,"
" Condemned," " Departed Years," " Newport
Harbor," " My Pearl," in the Providence Jour-
nal; " Fields of Sleep," in the Washington
Evening Star; " Reapers," " The Necroman-
cer," in the Boston Transcript; " Eastertime,"
" The Cross of Rubidoux," " Christ's Mother,"
"Worship of the Flowers," "O Bird, Swift
Flying," in the Ave Maria, Notre Dame, Indi-
ana; "Bethlehem's Babe," "For Success," in
the Los Angeles Times; to which publications
my thanks are due for permission to reprint.

LILA MUNRO TAINTER
San Diego,

California.



FOREWORD

O ship o' dreams, fashioned from foam of wave*,
Bird songs and whisperings of leafy boughs,
The footfall of the rain upon the roof,
The grief and joy of man, the flower of dawn,
The tender grace of twilight on the sea;
Molded by the desire of the heart,
And armored in a strength invincible,
Made in the furnace of the soul's white flame,
Go swiftly over seas to my beloved,
Bearing within thy hold a precious freight
Of memories' fragrant spices. Fear no ill;
The pilot, Love, will guide thee to the feet
Of her who made our earth a paradise.



CONTENTS
POEMS OF LOVE

PAGE

YOUNG LOVE is DEAD 1

LOVE, THE SORCERER 2

LOVE'S PRISONER 3

WHEN BIRDS SING Low 4

To EROS 5

LOVE'S FIRST DREAM 7

WHERE THOU DOST PASS 8

THE DEBUTANTE . 9

ONCE MORE 10

FORGIVE 12

OH, COME TO ME 13

THE CAPTIVE . . 14

LOVE'S APPROACH 15

SKETCHES 16

THE TRYST 18

THE ARTIST 19

POEMS OF FANCY

SLEEP 23

THE DOWER 24

SHIPS 25

THE ARGONAUTS 26

THE QUEST 29

ASPIRATION 31

To ARCADY 32

DEPARTED YEARS 33

FIELDS OF SLEEP 34



PAGE

THE ROCK-A-BY SHIP .35

WHEN PAN PLAYS 37

POEMS OF REVERY

A CHRISTMAS TOAST 41

RETROSPECTION 43

THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY 44

THE DULLARD 45

REAPERS 46

A QUESTION .47

FOR SUCCESS 48

EXPECTATION 49

THE CARAVELS 51

POEMS OF NATURE

A SLEIGHING SONG 55

EVENING 56

THE NECROMANCER 57

HOURS 59

THE SURF DOGS 61

THE SEAGULLS 62

INDIAN SUMMER 63

PERSEPHONE 64

REGINA 65

THE DESERT 67

AT LA JOLLA 69

NEWPORT HARBOR 70

BY THE PACIFIC 71

O BIRD, SWIFT FLYING 72

THE RETURN 78



POEMS OF SORROW

PAGE

IN A GARDEN 77

RESIGNATION 79

MY PEARL 81

AT NIGHT 82

IN HOSPITAL AT MANILA 83

HOPE'S MESSENGER 85

MY SONG 86

GOOD-BYE, OLD YEAR 87

FINIS 89

DREAMS 90

PASS ON, O DEATH 91

TURN DOWN His EMPTY GLASS .... 92

POEMS OF TRAGEDY

ANARCHY 97

SISTERS 99

BETRAYED 101

THE WANTON 103

RACHEL 104

THE JESTER 105

CONDEMNED 106

PAYING THE PIPER 107

THE LAND OF WOE 108

THE OPEN GATE 109

VANQUISHED Ill

RELIGIOUS POEMS

THE CROSS OF RUBIDOUX 115

THE WORSHIP OF THE FLOWERS , 117



PAGE

EASTER TIME 118

CHRIST'S MOTHER .119

BETHLEHEM'S BABE 120

I AM A WANDERER 122

WHEN SHEPHERDS WATCHED 123

YULETIDE 125

Cut Bono , 126



POEMS OF LOVE



YOUNG LOVE IS DEAD

YOUNG Love is dead, ' :

But when he died we cannot tell ;
There was no sound of passing bell

When life had fled.

We did not know
A thing so fair could pass away,
That lips of fire could turn one day

To lips of snow.

In dumb despair

We gazed on him we had caressed;
His hands were folded on his breast

As if in prayer.

Then in the grave
We laid our Love so cold and still.
We could not weep ; we had no will

Or power to save.

The Spring is here

With smiling face, but Love has fled;
Where last year's flowers are lying dead,

Go seek his bier.



[i]



LOVE, THE SORCERER

LOVE is a sorcerer of wondrous power;

Lie holds the glass of time within his hand,
And, lo, for one ecstatic, happy hour

The sun of heart's desire at his command
Floods all the land !

Love is the harbinger of bitter pain,

Of vain regret, of tears and wild despair,

A harvest, garnered 'mid the winds and rain,
Of blighted hopes and memories once fair.
Of Love beware !

And yet whene'er we hear his thrilling voice,
Whether in perfumed Spring we list his

speech,

Or when bird choirs of Summer sing, " Re-
joice "
With outstretched arms we strive his arms to

reach,
And gifts beseech !

Love, the beginning and the end of all,

Molds even the changeless to his own behest,

And gives to those who, living, miss his call,
In death the sacred shelter of his breast;
And this is best!



[2]



LOVE'S PRISONER

THOU art Love's prisoner who once roamed free

And mocked his chains;
Henceforward at his pleasure thou shalt be

As he ordains.

Thy bosom white is his, thy dark eyes' fire;

Thy nectared lips
Are his alone to drain at his desire

In honeyed sips.

He marked thee for his own ; and by his art

And subtle charms
He seized and prisoned thee within his heart,

Bound by his arms.



[3]



WHEN BIRDS SING LOW

RONDEAU

WHEN birds sing low in green retreat
At midnight hour their love songs sweet,
The poppied arms of Sleep forsake
For mine, Sweetheart. Awake! Awake!
Oh, let me not in vain entreat

When birds sing low.

Soon o'er the hills her lord to greet
Will glide the Dawn on shining feet:

Haste, from thy limbs dreams' fetters shake
When birds sing low.

The night with mysteries is replete,

And for love's tryst alone is meet;

Then come to me ere morn doth break,
With fragrant lips my thirst to slake
When birds sing low.



[4]



TO EROS

O FAIR god Eros, on this summer day

Pause in thy flight,
And 'mid the fragrant blossoms let us stray

Before the Night
Shrouds in her dusky veil the saffron light.

The tawny bees sing low the while they poise

O'er each sweet lip,
And fan the ardor of their coming joys

Before they sip,
Then, into waiting nectared cups they dip.

List, I entreat thee! Lay thy weapons by

A while, and rest
Ere thou dost wing thy course adown the sky ;

I fain would test

My strength 'gainst thine. Come, dream upon
my breast!

Thou canst not wound me, Eros; I am old,

And thou must keep

Thine arrows for hearts not grown numb and
cold:

An ashen heap
Long since was mine, with all its story told.



[5]



Nay, threat me not, I fear no more thy
charms !

But, ah, thy breath,

Thy soft lips, wake again the old alarms ;

Though this be death,

'Tis welcome thus to meet it in thine arms.



[6]



LOVE'S FIRST DREAM

WHEN yesterday

Has faded in the far horizon dim,
And fair to-morrow o'er the mountain's rim

Peeps arch and gay,

Will aught remind thee of our old-time bliss,
The rapture of the first ecstatic kiss?

Or doth stern fate

Decree that it shall be recalled no more,
As footprints made upon a sandy shore

That waves obliterate;

And all the charm, the passion and sweet pain
Of love's first message never come again?

It cannot be
That midst the joys with which thy life is

fraught,
The past so bitter-sweet holds not a thought,

A memory of me;

That I, who kindled first the altar's flame,
Shall have nor habitation nor a name?

Let love's first dream
Sometimes glide through the cloisters of thy

heart,
And I shall know, though time and seas may

part;

Nor will it seem

A sin to have been loved, though at the shrine
Another hand now feeds the fire divine.
[7]



WHERE THOU DOST PASS

WHERE thou dost pass,
The chaliced lily fairer grows,
And sweeter breathes the fragrant rose;
The whole wide world in beauty blooms and
glows

Where thou dost pass.

O little queen,
O dainty, royal lady fair,
Our prisoner wonderful and rare,
Caught on the wing, trapped in a moonbeam
snare,

O little queen.

Wilt thou not stay

A few short hours thine upward flight,
And be content till jewelled night
Dies on the threshold of the morning bright

Wilt thou not stay?

Thy captor, Love,

Folds thee from harms upon his breast ;
Then struggle not, but quiet rest,
A timid bird safe in a sheltered nest ;

Thy captor, Love.



[8]



THE DEBUTANTE

SHE comes, a vision to enchant,
Dark, tangled lashes veil her eyes,
Filled with a sweet, demure surprise ;

A rosebud fair, a debutante.

The chestnut rings anear her cheek
Touch lovingly the tinted snows;
Chased by her smile a dimple goes

About her mouth at hide-and-seek.

Ah, could I feel that little hand

With rose-tipped fingers clasp mine own,
The proudest monarch on his throne

Would rank as beggar in the land.

Fair maid, to me sweet succor give,
Nor let my heart unheeded lie
Beneath thy light feet tripping by,

But heal my wounds and bid me live.



[9]



ONCE MORE

WHEN the Summer comes once more,
O my love,

Shall I see you as of yore,

O my love ;

With heaven's radiance shining through

Overarching skies of blue

In a benison on you,

O my love?

Will you smile on me again,

Heart of mine,

And forgive the tears and pain,

Heart of mine,

And forget doubt's drifting snows

In the glory of the rose,

While love's rapture burns and glows,
Heart of mine?

Hasten to mine empty arms,

My beloved;

I will shelter you from harms,

My beloved.

You shall lie upon my breast

In an ecstasy of rest,

Safe as bird within its nest,

My beloved.



[10]



In that distant country fair,

O mine own,
You must know my wild despair,

O mine own;
And from out eternity,
By love's wondrous potency,
You will come from God to me,

O mine own!



FORGIVE

AMID the shadows dark

That close enfold,
Above the ruins stark

Of hopes grown cold,

Send but one token, dear, that I may live;
Forgive.

Beyond the mountain ridge

So darkly blue,
Across yon starry bridge

My prayers pursue

Who couldst no boon refuse when thou didst
live;

Forgive.

By pangs of vain remorse,

By anguished cry,
By haunted orbs whose source

Of tears is dry,

Remember not the old-time perfidy; that I may
live,

Forgive.

Adown the black abyss
Whence thee I call,
From thine estate of bliss

Let pardon fall;

Whisper to me one word that I may live ;
Forgive.
[12]



OH, COME TO ME
RONDEL

OH, come to me; the twilight shadows grey,
Veil with their dusky wings the golden west,

Where slowly fades the flower of the day,
Its petals floating on the ocean's breast.

While birds sing sweet good-night in bowered
nest

Amid the trees whose branches swing and sway,

Oh, come to me ; the twilight shadows grey,
Veil with their dusky wings the golden west.

Thy lips are sweet as blossoms of the May,
Thy bosom white as snow on mountain's
crest.

Across the fields of evening take thy way,

And with thy gentle voice soothe my unrest ;

Oh, come to me ; the evening shadows grey,
Veil with their dusky wings the golden west.



[13]



THE CAPTIVE

WHY does Love weave such fetters for my

feet;

O heart's delight, I should be far away;
Hark, through the casement sounds the world's

heart-beat,
The echo of its fray.

Open thy gates and set me free again ;

Thy tangling lashes hold me captive still ;
And thus I kneel, filled with delicious pain,

A suppliant at thy will.

The blossom of thy mouth invites approach,
Its garnered sweetness I would fain surprise,

But should I on its petals fair encroach,
Wouldst slay me with thine eyes?

Have pity, beauteous lady ; bid me live ;

Grant me some hope ere I from thee depart ;
If guerdon for sweet duress I must give,

Maiden, I leave my heart.



[14]



LOVE'S APPROACH

MINE own, my dear,

Love has set forth upon his gentle quest;
Open thy portals for the coming guest

Without a fear.

Swift from the skies,
O'er hill and stream he straightway wings his

flight,
His path illumined ever by the light

Within thine eyes.

Thy bosom's shrine
Shall be to him a sanctuary sweet ;
After the din and turmoil of the street,

Refuge divine.

True love ne'er tires
Seeking his own ; as magnet unto steel
He flies, and shall abide through woe or weal,

E'en through sin's fires.

He asks not gain

Of his beloved, nor if his gift exceed;
He cometh to fulfill each wish and need,

And soothe all pain.

From Heaven above

He brings the crown of all the joys to be,
Conqueror of death, heir of eternity,

Immortal Love.
[15]



SKETCHES



THE God of Day comes forth with his young
bride

Fair Morn, enshrouded in her silvery mists;
With eager hand he sweeps her veil aside,

And blushing yields she whatso'er he lists.
The waterfall leaps down from craggy lair,
And with its rainbow glories decks her hair.

The swallows dart from hidden nests, and fly
In myriads over meadow, barn and croft ;

Far, far above the tallest treetops high,
The message of the morning bear aloft ;

The river sings betwixt its sedgy banks,

And reeds and grasses wave in serried ranks.

II

The ardent Sun above Earth's fragrant breast
Broods with his wide-spread wings of flame
a-glow ;

And golden plumage, falling from his crest,
Quivers and gleams upon the tide below.

A languorous peace pervades, begot from this

Embrace of Earth and Sun in cloud abyss.

The insects' drowsy drone the only sound
That breaks the quiet of the noontide grace,
[16]



The bees within the lily's cup have found
Sweet recompense of labor for a space;
The dusky shades withdraw to forest maze,
Nor stirring leaf their ambush safe betrays.

Ill

Night o'er her head a star-gemmed wimple
flings,

And swiftly glides adown the darkening skies ;
Between her palms the lantern moon she swings

As to the trysting-place of Love she hies ;
Glowing with ardor, filled with sweet alarms,
Eager she seeks the rapture of his arms.

The wandering wind, espying her in flight,

With view halloo, upon the chase has sped,
But ere Dawn's archers with their shafts of

light

Rise to the hunt, the wanton queen has fled;
Yet little zephyrs whispering, disclose
The secret amour to the blushing rose.



[17]



THE TRYST

TPIE perfume of roses fills the air;

The lily in green coif, tall and fair,
Amid the shadows that grow apace,
Stands like a nun with pure, pale face.

The herald stars with their torches bright
Proclaim in the skies the coming Night ;
Her dusky mantle is sweeping chill
O'er swaying trees and on distant hill.

The firefly lights up his lantern small ;
The mournful voices of crickets call ;

The wings of the winds bring odors sweet ;

But never sound of thy coming feet.

A dreaming bird calls from hidden nest ;

The moon sails over the mountain's crest ;
The brown owl summons his mate unseen
Far in the depths of the woodland green.

Why dost thou tarry? The hours wane.

Must Love's fond pleading be made in vain?
My lips are thirsting for thy lips dear,
Moon of delight, she is here, she is
here.



[18]



THE ARTIST

THOU art a daughter of the house of song,
Whose golden corridors, the hours long,

Are echoing
With unborn harmonies that dulcet ring.

Within thy lovely bosom, 'neath its snows,
A spark from God's own altar burns and glows ;

Its flame divine

Draws all the ravished world and makes it
thine.

Such rapture does thy wondrous music wake
That souls in ecstasy their bonds would break,

And, from earth free,
Soar up to heaven on wings of melody.



[19]



POEMS OF FANCY



SLEEP

RONDEL

SLEEP wanders slowly down night's golden
stair,

Wearing a dream-flower on her snowy breast.
In rippling splendor flows her unbound hair,

Her eyes in heavenly benediction rest

Upon the unquiet world and it is blest.
Repose profound attends all nature where
Sleep wanders slowly down night's golden stair,

Wearing a dream-flower on her snowy breast.

Peace enters weary hearts, abiding there

For a brief space, and at her sweet behest,

Tears flow no more, forgotten is despair,
As, with hushed footfall, on her gentle quest,

Sleep wanders slowly down night's golden stair.



[23]



THE DOWER

HIDDEN 'mid interlacing vines of green

That o'er the rough stone boulders climb and
cling,

There is a little gate almost unseen,

And birds about its portals nest and sing.

A tiny gate, but broad and wondrous fair

The landscape that beyond it stretches wide,
With flowering fields whose perfume fills the

air,

And shady groves where woodland things
abide.

Dryads from every tree and shrub invite
To dalliance in shady, cool retreat,

And humming birds in every bloom alight,
Nor know at last which sip has been most
sweet.

Spirit of beauty, wonderful thy dower;

Without such gift how barren life would be!
The miracle of bush and tree and flower

Thou givest those who love thee, eyes to see.



[24]



SHIPS

OUT of the shadows grey

That hang in misty veil,

A little fleet sets sail
From port of Yesterday.

With white wings to the breeze,
Their high prows spurn the foam,
And swiftly onward come

To bring back memories.

From far-off southern skies
Where sun-kissed rivers flow ;
From northland, white with snow,

Whence cloud-capped peaks arise;

Into the Present glide

The phantom ships of Yore,
Sweep into port once more,

And safe at anchor ride.

And when the sun sinks low,
Strange music ebbs and swells
Like chime of elfin bells,

The songs of Long Ago.



[25]



THE ARGONAUTS

WE are sailing, we are sailing, and our quest

shall never cease
Till in Hesperidean gardens we behold the

golden fleece.
Passing glimpses of its splendor seemed to reach

us in the morn
When above the waste of waters came the rosy

day new-born,
But, alas, no land was lying, green and lovely,

on our lee,
And as far as eye could follow stretched the

restless, moaning sea.
We are sailing, we are sailing, beyond any

mortal hailing,
Till we see on far horizon those fair islands

of delight.

When the golden flower of heaven opened wide
to glorify

The tree of night whose branches stretched
across the arching sky,

And the silver stars were blossoming in myriads
on each bough,

We thought our quest was ended and our guer-
don given now.

Oh, the agony of waiting ; oh, the hope deferred
so long,

[26]



That may only voice its yearning in the meas-
ure of a song.
We are sailing, we are sailing.

Eyes once keen are dulled with gazing on the
far-off misty rim

For a glimpse of that fair kingdom in the off-
ing, pale and dim;

And the crew, so gay and fearless, now are
greybeards sad and old,

With their courage crushed and broken and
their fiery hearts grown cold ;

Joyous hopes and aspirations, all have faded
till they seem

Like the evanescent phantoms of some half-for-
gotten dream.
We are sailing, we are sailing.

We have journeyed long and widely, and our
ship in port would be;

She is heavy with the trailing weeds of many
an unknown sea;

Every sail is brown and tattered; all her tim-
bers leaking sore.

She has buffeted the typhoon, heard the sirens
on the shore ;

Bare her deck and swept by surges; guiding
helm unshipped and gone;

She is but a wreck dismantled and the treasure
still unwon.

[27]



We are sailing, we are sailing, beyond any

mortal hailing;
Oh, to see on the horizon those fair islands

of delight!

To the eastward or the westward is the king-
dom that we seek?

Not one ship has ever reached it of the many
we bespeak;

But we know beyond all doubting, by our an-
guish of desire,

By the unrest that consumes us with the tor-
ment of its fire,

That the agony of loving and the heartbreaks
were not vain,

And that in the port we're seeking there is

surcease for our pain.
We are sailing, we are sailing, beyond any

mortal hailing,

Back to angel arms that clasped us long ago,
so long ago.



[28]



THE QUEST

WE'VE been searching for a lifetime,

Everywhere,

For a mystic hidden country passing fair,
Where our bright dream castles stand
In a cloudless summer land
And countless blossoms perfume all the air.

Sometimes when the sun was sinking

In the west,

And each sleepy bird was brooding on its nest,
We have seen a glory gleaming
Brighter far than earthly seeming,
And we thought to gain our haven and our
quest.

Music sweet as ever heard from

Angel choir,

Kindled in the yearning heart supreme desire,
Till the soul in ecstasy
From earth trammels would be free,
Burning in its prison with divinest fire.

We could almost view our wondrous

Castles white,

With their starry casements glowing all alight,
Hear the bells within the towers
Mark the passing of the hours,
Then betwixt us fell the blackness of the
night.

[29]



Was it but day's dying embers

On the sky,
And the moaning winds among the treetops

high,

Blending woodland whispers low
With the river's rhythmic flow,
For we're wandering still and searching, you

and I?

But I'm weary, oh, so weary

Of the dark !

And upon my spirit pain has left its mark.
In life's game of " give and take "
Oft the stoutest heart will break
If hope lies within the bosom cold and stark !

When across death's black abyss
Heaven's glory streams,
Lighting up its fearsome depths with golden

gleams,

Shall we see before us rise,
Silhouetted 'gainst the skies,
The elusive, fairy castles of our dreams?



[30]



ASPIRATION

I PINE for fields Elysian, for streams
Sparkling and fair beyond Earth's wildest

dreams,

Upon whose banks I fain would lie at ease,
Mine ears attuned to wondrous melodies;
And lips now sternly locked in silence chill,
With thoughts unchained would make the whole
earth thrill.

My soul is fainting for the viands rare
On which the gods are daily wont to fare;
Some favored eat thereof, nor are denied,
While I, an-hungered, gazing stand outside.

Give me the wine of song, that I may drain
The golden cup and never thirst again ;
The food ambrosial let me taste, and feel
Divine afflatus through my senses steal.
Life lacking this is but a beggar's meed;
Granted, a banquet fit for royal need.

If but the lees my portion be designed,
If only crumbs from Zeus' feast I find,

Though Death preside, the gain would still be
mine,

If on Olympian crusts I once might dine.



[31]



TO ARCADY

WITH joyous hearts and laughter gay
We wander on the livelong day ;

Sometimes the road is fair with flowers,
Sometimes the rain-cloud glooms and lowers,
But we are young, and merrily
We dance along to Arcady.

We lie beside the hedge at night ;
Above us stars gleam large and bright.
What matters hunger, rags or cold,
When ours the world to have and hold?
And so, with blithe hearts, merrily
We journey on to Arcady.

Then blinding tears ; yet must we on,
Though strength is spent and bays unwon:
The last rose tint fades from the west ;
Pan's pipes are stilled; we fain would rest;
For now we know 'twas fantasy,
Our dream of youth, our Arcady.



[32]



DEPARTED YEARS

RETURN, departed years, return once more ;

In happy dreams I see ye still, and hear

The music of your soft-voiced melody.

Its subtle spell pervades the solitude

Of gloomy night until I live again,

But waking weep to find it but a dream.

The golden days of youth come back to me,

Joys long since passed away and hopes grown

cold ;

Loved faces, hidden by the flower starred turf,
Smile fondly on me with their old-time charm,
And all my soul is steeped in sweet repose.
O happy dreams, O bitter wakening!
Would I might wake no more, but quiet sleep,
Lulled on the bosom of the happy Past,
Hearing her low voice murmur in my ear,
While memory's bell should ring the Angelus
That tells the sun of life has sunk to rest.



[331



FIELDS OF SLEEP

KNOW'ST thou the wide, mysterious fields of

sleep,

Whose velvet green sward sparkles into rills,
Where fair dream flowers ope on every side,

Their petals written o'er in mystic signs ;
Where bright winged fancies float from bloom

to bloom,

Sipping the treasured honey as they fly?
From far-off hills, whereon browse peaceful

flocks,
The plaintive note of shepherd's pipe is

heard,

While sob of waves from unseen mystic shores

Whispers the tired heart to peaceful rest,

And over flower and field and shimmering

stream

Trail silver banners of the fair-faced moon.
O happy kingdom where such joys abide!
O fields divine, strewn o'er with blossoms

rare!

Some time, returning not, we reach thy verge,
And lo, the ocean of eternity!



[34]



THE ROCK-A-BY SHIP

THE rock-a-by ship is ready for sea,

Her anchor is weighed and her sails un-
furled ;
She is only waiting for you and for me

To sail away o'er the edge of the world:
Hark, to the sailors' cheery cry !
(Lullaby, baby, lullaby!)

Who sets sail in the rock-a-by ship?

All aboard ! All aboard ! Off we sweep !
Over the billows we rise and dip,

Bound for the wondrous ocean of sleep! .


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