Which breathes through Nature. Oh, the world is weak !

But, like a wind-exposed distorted tree,

To the individuｒeａd•9９ｃｓｗ•ｃｏmal, true, and the universe,

And what we best conceive we fail to speak.

Fit peroration without 九*九*藏*書let or thrall.

The effluence of each is false to all,

Some inward thought, 九*九*藏*書my soul throbs audibly

And then resume thy broken strains, and seek

Along my pulses, yearning to be free

We are blｈｔtpｓ://ｒeａｄ.99ｃｓｗ•coｍown against for ever by the curse

And something farther, fuller, higher九_九_藏_書, rehearse

When I attain to utter forth in verse

Wait, soul, until thine ashen garments fall,

In consummation of right harmony: