To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread
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Illustration: 0039] To pick her wintry faggot from the thorn, To seek her nightly shed and weep till morn; She only left of all the harmless train,
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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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