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The Amber Spyglass The Amber Spyglass The Amber Spyglass THE AMBER SPYGLASS Philip Pullman [22 nov 2001, scanned for #bookz] [15 dec 2001, proofed for #bookz by bookleech] The morning comes, the night decays, the watchmen leave their stations; The grave is burst, the spices shed, the linen wrapped up; The bones of death, the cov’ring clay, the sinews shrunk & dry’d Reviving shake, inspiring move, breathing, awakening, Spring like redeemed captives when their bonds & bars are burst. Let the slave grinding at the mill run out into the field, Let him look up into the heavens & laugh in the bright air; Let the inchained soul, shut up in darkness and in sighing, Whose face has never seen a smile in thirty weary years, Rise and look out; his chains are loose, his dungeon doors are open; And let his wife and children return from the oppressor’s scourge. They look behind at every step & believe it is a dream, Singing: “The Sun has left his blackness & has found a fresher morning, And the fair Moon rejoices in the clear
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