writing desk, flys none,
raven no scholar, nor
a bit alike, but aye, some runes,
capricious chicken scratches ply
a simile a'tween, and grand
adventure, this, bears solvent
peace grasped in understanding
so, what light through yonder window,
fair, and sweet as roses
dawn to dusk and ponder brings,
among all twists and gallows' way
how found this imp, tonight
beleaguered soul, or lay?
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