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The Flying Shuttle
Man's fate is wrought in the loom of years,
To pattern traced by an unseen hand
The shuttle flies and the weaver sighs,
For the work is slow and tragic and grand.
Some shuttles are filled with golden thread
For the few great souls who march in the van,
But most are filled with the thread used for
The warp and woof of the average man.
Stuart F. Reed
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