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Rupert Brooke - ParalysisRupert Brooke - Paralysis
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For moveless limbs no pity I crave, That never were swift!  Still all I prize, Laughter and thought and friends, I have; No fool to heave luxurious sighs For the woods and hills that I never knew. The more excellent way`s yet mine!  And you Flower-laden come to the clean white cell, And we talk as ever am I not the same? With our hearts we love, immutable, You without pity, I without shame. We talk as of old; as of old you go Out under the sky, and laughing, I know, Flit through the streets, your heart all me; Till you gain the world beyond the town. Then I fade from your heart, quietly; And your fleet steps quicken.  The strong down Smiles you welcome there; the woods that love you Close lovely and conquering arms above you. O ever-moving, O lithe and free! Fast in my linen prison I press On impassable bars, or emptily Laugh in my great loneliness. And still in the white neat bed I strive Most impotently against that gyve; Being less now than a thought, even, To you alone with your hills and heaven.
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