On stilts, Cyrano courts Neptune blind to the time-worn cracks and centuries coarse ephesias, of her moons. Gone this view of her suns, behind half-opened doors Susanna finishes Figaro, Daedalus takes wing, and the price of cloves falter.. Stay! this beaten path, balm it with a lullaby and grind it to a halt. (In her absence), shiploads will burn.
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