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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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Town and Country

32 lines
Rupert Brooke·1887–1915·Bloomsbury Group
ere, where love's stuff is body, arm and sideAre stabbing-sweet 'gainst chair and lamp and wall.In every touch more intimate meanings hide;And flaming brains are the white heart of all. Here, million pulses to one centre beat:Closed in by men's vast friendliness, alone,Two can be drunk with solitude, and meetOn the sheer point where sense with knowing's one. Here the green-purple clanging royal night,And the straight lines and silent walls of town,And roar, and glare, and dust, and myriad whiteUndying passers, pinnacle and crown Intensest heavens between close-lying facesBy the lamp's airless fierce ecstatic fire;And we've found love in little hidden places,Under great shades, between the mist and mire. Stay! though the woods are quiet, and you've heardNight creep along the hedges. Never goWhere tangled foliage shrouds the crying bird,And the remote winds sigh, and waters flow! Lest -- as our words fall dumb on windless noons,Or hearts grow hushed and solitary, beneathUnheeding stars and unfamiliar moons,Or boughs bend over, close and quiet as death, -- Unconscious and unpassionate and still,Cloud-like we lean and stare as bright leaves stare,And gradually along the stranger hillOur unwalled loves thin out on vacuous air, And suddenly there's no meaning in our kiss,And your lit upward face grows, where we lie,Lonelier and dreadfuller than sunlight is,And dumb and mad and eyeless like the sky.