And it like heavy woollen shawls Around my shoulders weigh By the fierce light of Enquiring Sun On a mortal's cloudless day Prickles against the cheek, Stir up the truths withal Hidden The shrouds of Pride Strain to resist a fall Explosions come To graze the Guilty face And the trembling finger would If not for the scarlet that will carpet Into the Honest Knowledge Beads from th' brow follow They squirm of sticky unrest And push against the throaty lump Which, Stuck in adamnant firm Remains a Throaty Lump
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