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"Why must there be fog?"
"My child,
What troubles you so?"
"I see the fog
Around us
And nothing old."
"That is the
Blanket's nature,
Be not troubled,
Dear son so mild."
"But where are
My friends so dear?"
"They are far,
For those in mist
And those seeing clear
Must be apart.
Together are those
Blinded by fog."
"Is that the course
Of the thing;
To bring
The blind together?"
"No child,
Only to hide
What man
Cannot weather."