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Thou art come at length
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‘To labour and not to seek reward,’ he prays,
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O, the weakness of any mouth
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Sometimes I play a game in which my primitive craft fires
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Some poems
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But he is free to turn : this is the speaking tree,
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which is the rhythmic erection of essence.
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When I tell you the day is a poem
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Get back to me by facsimile or dream of climbing a night ladder
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Make my dreams poems