Over churning hapless waters turgid
does furiously tread my servile heart,
lamentable its arduous bargain
does fetter not misfortune to depart.
For what is by the disposition culled
yet the mitigation of tranquil light,
its meager fastidiousness too dulled
to incur its quixotic dreams' full flight.
Had the fantasy less erratic beamed
perchance the earth would have it so esteemed,
Yet does the effusive vagary gush
o'er its own hearth too swiftly does it rush.
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