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Sonnet

Since you would claim the sources of my

Recall the meshes whence it sprang unlimed,

The reedy traps which other hands have

To close upon it.

Conjure up the

Blaze that it cleared so cleanly, or the

Devised to strike it down.

It will be free.

Whatever nets draw in to prison

At length your eyes must turn to watch it go.

My mouth, perhaps, may learn one thing too well,

My body hear no echo save its own,

Yet will the desperate mind, maddened and proud,

Seek out the storm, escape the bitter

That we obey, strain to the wind, be

Straight to its freedom in the thunderous cloud

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Louise Bogan

Louise Bogan (August 11, 1897 – February 4, 1970) was an American poet. She was appointed the fourth Poet Laureate to the Library of Congress in…

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