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Something it swings on more than the earth I swing on, To it the creation is the friend whose embracing awakes.
You are also asking me questions and I hear you, I answer that I cannot answer, you must find out for yourself.
Whimpering and truckling fold with powders for invalids, conformity goes to the fourth-remov'd, I wear my hat as I please indoors or out.
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I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.