III
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lthough the clouded storm dismaysMany a heart upon these waters,The thought of that far golden blazeGiveth me heart upon the waters,Thinking thereof my bark is ledTo port wherein no storm I dread;No tempest maketh me afraid.
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— William Blake
Does the Eagle know what is in the pit?
Or wilt thou go ask the Mole:
Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod?
Or Love in a golden bowl?
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