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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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noun

One who, or that which, accelerates.

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And the fingers of night are amorous.

13 lines
Rupert Brooke·1887–1915·Bloomsbury Group
t Keep close as we speed, Though mad whispers woo you, and hot hands cling,And the touch and the smell of bare flesh sting,Soft flank by your flank, and side brushing side—To-night never heed! Unswerving and silent follow with me, Till the city ends sheer, And the crook’d lanes open wide, Out of the voices of night, Beyond lust and fear, To the level waters of moonlight, To the level waters, quiet and clear,