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When you say what people don't want to hear,
'Tis soon that they will disappear,
For 'tis their doubting selves that they do fear,
When a hint of truth comes creeping near.
'Tis mostly those who push their views,
That when offered simple truth, refuse,
Retreating to their sacred place,
Where reality is something they need not face.
Yet facts remain unchanged by thought,
And a dungeon is often a fool's resort,
And belief the speculative thoughts of dreams,
Are like the false margins of silver moon beams,
That are but reflections of the Sun,
From which the creatures of the night do run.
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