| «Be my kin free fro carnal sin
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| Bridle the thoughts of thy Master.»
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| «There hath past away a glore fro the Earth;
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| A glore that in the hearts and minds of men
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| Men dementéd — blindfoldéd by light
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| Nourisheth as weed in their well-groom'd garths.»
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| «Might I too was blindfoldéd ere
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| „The quality of mercy and absolution
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| Tho' years have master’d me
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| Whence cometh such qualities?
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| A masque of this to fashion:
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| Build thyself a mirror in which
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| Seer blest, thou best philosopher!“
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| Solely wanton images of thy desire appear!»
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| «'Tis the Divine Comedy —
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| „'Tis the Divine Tragedy —
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| The fool and the mocking court;
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| The fool and the mocking court;
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| Fool, kneel now, and ring thy bells!
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| Fool, kneel now, and ring thy bells!
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| We hold the Earth fro Heaven away.“
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| Make us guffaw at thy futile follies
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| Yet for our blunders — Oh, in shame;
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| Earth beareth no balm for mistakes —
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| We hold the Earth fro Hell away.»
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| That cross you wear around your neck;
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| Is it only a decoration, or are you a
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| True Christian believer?
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| Yes, I believe — truly
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| Then I want you to remove it at once!
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| — and never to wear it within this castle
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| Again! |
| Do you know how a falcon is trained my
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| Dear? |
| Her eyes are sewn shut. |
| Blinded temporarily
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| She suffers the whims of her God patiently, until
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| Her will is submerged and she learns to serve —
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| As your God taught and blinded you with
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| Crosses
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| You had me take off my cross because it
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| Offended…
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| It offended no-one. |
| No — it simply appears
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| To me to be discourteous to… to wear
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| The symbol of a deity long dead
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| My ancestors tried to find it. |
| And to open
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| The door that seperates us from our Creator
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| But you need no doors to find God
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| If you believe…
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| Believe?! |
| If you believe you are… gullible
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| Can you look around this world and believe
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| In the goodness of a god who rules it?
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| Famine, Pestilence, War, Disease and Death!
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| They rule this world
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| There is also love and life and hope
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| Very little hope I assure you. |
| No. If a god
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| Of love and life ever did exist… he is long
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| Since dead. |
| Someone… something rules in his
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| Place
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| «Believe? |
| In a deity long dead? |
| -
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| I would rather be a pagan suckléd in creeds outworn;
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| Whith faärytales fill’d up in head;
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| Thoughts of the Book stillborn.»
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| «Shadow of annoyance —
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| Ne’er come hither!
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| …And when He falleth, He falleth like Lucifer
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| Ne’er to ascend again…» |