How does the reappearing of the cloud unbuild it. [Please select]
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For after the rain, when, with never a stain, The pavilion of heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams, with their convex gleams, Build up the blue dome of air,-- I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, I rise and unbuild it again. [Please select]
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