Sore Throat
E
Emmanuel George Cefai
0
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With a sore throat
I tried to sing
I tried to get up he field
With one of my hands in a sling
But then
From these I
though I wished to versify
I said: I shall wait
And utter no word till the moment be come
And so I did
And I sang then as the bird sing
Yet with more technique
And
That technique the lovelier made my song
And the beauty's shrine in the verses.
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