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Do not go gentle into that good night, |
| Old age should burn and rave at of day; |
| Rage, rage against the dying of the |
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| men at their is |
| Because their no lightning they |
| Do not go gentle that good night. |
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| Good the last wave by, crying how bright |
| Their frail might have danced in a green |
| Rage, rage against the dying of the light. |
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| Wild caught and sang the sun in |
| And learn, too late, grieved it on its way, |
| Do not go gentle into that |
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| men, near who with |
| eyes blaze like meteors and be gay, |
| Rage, rage against the of the light. |
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| And you, my there on that |
| bless, me with fierce I |
| Do go gentle into that |
| Rage, rage against the of the light. |