Another Song of a Fool
This great purple butterfly,In the prison of my hands,Has a learning in his eyeNot a poor fool understands.
Once he lived a schoolmasterWith a stark, denying look,A string of scholars went in fearOf his great birch and his great book.
Like the clangour of a bell,Sweet and harsh, harsh and sweet,That is how he learnt so wellTo take the roses for his meat.
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