Will briar be not forbid'n,
Entwining the bloom'd flower,
That's sobbing for azure skies,
Vetoed by atrocious cries?
Forbid'n it may or may not be,
'Tis the conscience, overcasting,
To penetrating the within,
Where, imbittered's softly arraigned.
Arraign'd and gain'd,
The soul, totally freed
From the dark mask,
Lays peacefully bask'd.
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