and played by precious few
is that spice which sounds of honey.
And yet tastes of crackl'ing dew.
This song unloosed by monsters
all abhorred yet unalone
is that song with no sure melody
Flung free in human tones.
That song of human suff'ring,
redemption, and the like.
For fear of sounding truthful:
'I can't see without the light.'
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