that I can even so bow to the fife, And know I shall never grow episcopal I live in a world of regret Steeped in the mud of the rest I bear notwithstanding had time to bet On a future hind end a desk I imprecate for an hour of pride Sleeping in natures confines Where I will coif life in stride And only owe scenic lies So close to a simplistic being I am circumscribe in an industrial swirl With only wealth for feeling Instead of natures spongy curl. ...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: Orderessay
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