*
What weird science clothes us thus,
With overwrought fuss,
We pant and puff,
And toil away the year,
Collecting out worn cares,
When all is free,
Outside the mind,
Which holds the key.
*
Flesh and Bone…
*
What weird science clothes us thus,
With overwrought fuss,
We pant and puff,
And toil away the year,
Collecting out worn cares,
When all is free,
Outside the mind,
Which holds the key.
*
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