| Ware, nor of good nor ill, what aim hath act?
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| …Without its climax, death, what savour hath
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| Life? |
| an impeccable machine, exact
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| …He paces an inane and pointless path
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| To glut brute appetites, his sole content
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| …How tedious were he fit to comprehend
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| Himself! |
| More, this our noble element
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| …Of fire in nature, love in spirit, unkenned
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| Life hath no spring, no axle, and no end.
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| His body a blood-ruby radiant
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| …With noble passion, sun-souled Lucifer
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| Swept through the dawn colossal, swift aslant
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| …On Eden’s imbecile perimeter.
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| He blessed nonentity with every curse
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| …And spiced with sorrow the dull soul of sense,
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| Breath life into the sterile universe,
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| …With Love and Knowledge drove out innocence
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| The Key of Joy is disobedience. |