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| This was a Poet — It is That |
| Distills amazing sense |
| From ordinary Meanings — |
| And Attar so immense |
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| 5 | From the familiar species |
| That perished by the Door — |
| We wonder it was not Ourselves |
| Arrested it — before — |
| |
| Of Pictures, the Discloser — |
| 10 | The Poet — it is He — |
| Entitles Us — by Contrast — |
| To ceaseless Poverty — |
| |
| Of portion — so unconscious — |
| The Robbing — could not harm — |
| 15 | Himself — to Him — a Fortune — |
| Exterior — to Time — |