“You are just a boy. What do you know?”
I reason and reckon with the aged,
For the tears in my youthful eyes is as pepper,
Fire in my heart, ablaze in my bones, ...
LADY, in thy proud eyes
There is a weary look,
As if the spirit we know through them
Were daunted with rebuke
To think that the heart of man henceforth
Is read like a read book.
Lady, in thy lifted face
The solitude is sore;
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