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THE POET.

Thou, who wouldst wear the name Of poet mid thy brethren of mankind,And clothe in words of flame Thoughts that shall live within the general mind!Deem not the framing of a deathless layThe pastime of a drowsy summer day.
But gather all thy powers, And wreak them on the verse that thou dost weave,And in thy lonely hours,At silent morning or at wakeful eve,
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