as i don't know
do not stingly most hours we so want to?
for all you ache for, youngly
she is a kind of everywhere
damned, he found
(lucky fool)
a gem on his first journey
which, happy monks and joyous dead,
desires do we young eschew
tethered like wild hawks somehow
to bodily greed?
and is there, worthy gods and trustable livers,
such an animal
as spiritual greed?
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