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              21

O sweet spontaneous
earth how often have
the
doting

           fingers of
prurient philosophers pinched
and
poked

thee
,has the naughty thumb
of science prodded
thy

      beauty      .how
often have religions taken
thee upon their scraggy knees
squuezing and

buffeting thee that thou mightest concieve
gods
       (but
true

to the imcomparable
couch of death thy
rhythmic
lover

             thou answerest

them only with

                         spring)