Training
9 lines✦
ot this week nor this month dare I lie downIn languour under lime trees or smooth smile.Love must not kiss my face pale that is brown. My lips, parting, shall drink space, mile by mile;Strong meats be all my hunger; my renownBe the clean beauty of speed and pride of style. Cold winds encountered on the racing DownShall thrill my heated bareness; but awhileNone else may meet me till I wear my crown.
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