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Samuel Taylor Coleridge - Psyche
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The butterfly the ancient Grecians made
The soul`s fair emblem, and its only name--
But of the soul, escaped the slavish trade
Of mortal life! -- For in this earthly frame
Ours is the reptile`s lot, much toil, much blame,
Manifold motions making little speed,
And to deform and kill the things whereon we feed.
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