Am I, while scripting, different flesh
Ethereal, a different mind
When I resign the poet's pen
Do I a lesser poet find
What squalid speech invades my tongue
When all the mighty Muses part
What morbid use of words and thought
When I remove the poet's heart
But set me, place me by the heights
Those summits where the poet's dwelt
And ah, alas! - I'm freed again
And moved by Muses Homer felt
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