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The Bull of Nubt stood before me
Drenched against the red-gold dawn
He appeared a black mountain of storm
With mighty sweeping wings ironclad, sword-feathered of heaven
And within me awoke such gladness at the thundering of His voice
That the eyes of my heart opened, abrupt and overflowing
And I had felt I had been dead for many restless ages
Before His terrible beauty graced my Ka

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