Mikhail Conrad

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A gentle face, that mark'd my heart profound-
should hands of mine caress your bony cheek;
A regal visage I would like have crowned,
And I'd traverse your frail and wight physique-
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Once drunk, twice closed-
The minds with faith just posed.
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Professed be, a spirit free has inquiry-
And notably- for who seek wit- to be so fit,
Without a quit- abscond and lead, those deities feed-
On us with greed- to out your mind and you will find-
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