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"Nor shapes of men nor beast we ken —"

"And through the drifts the snowy clifts
Did send a dismal sheen:
Nor shapes of men nor beast we ken —
The ice was all between.
The ice was here, the ice was there,
The ice was all around:
It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,
Like noises in a swound!"
— S. T. Coleridge,
Rime of the Ancient Mariner
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