Woke, once, the clays of a cold star Are limbs, so dear achieved. are Sides full nerved still warm too hard To stir was it, for this the clay grew Tall? O w...

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Woke, once, the clays of a cold star

Are limbs, so dear achieved. are

Sides full nerved still warm too hard

To stir was it, for this the clay grew

Tall? O what made fatuous sunbeams

Toil to break earth's sleep at allUse the lines above to answer this questions;The theme of the poem is