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Muses | ||
| Sometimes when I sit with pen set to write, All my ideas seem to be on a flight. But in a moment they always come back, Ready to set down without any track. Thoughts are ephemeral transparent mist, Somewhat diffuse to be clasped in the wrist. Patience and gentleness cause them to stay, So I can set them all down for the day. Thanks to the intricate paths of the brain I can in short order make them all plain. Muses accompany me night and day. I shall not scare them so they go away. | ||
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