To A Couple Of Students Who Were Teasing Her
Where are you going, my dear little greenhorns
Here,
I'll teach you how to turn a verse or two Young drones sucking at withered flowers,
Little goats brushing horns against a fence
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Where are you going, my dear little greenhorns
Here,
I'll teach you how to turn a verse or two Young drones sucking at withered flowers,
Little goats brushing horns against a fence
Your hand, my wonder, is now icy cold
The purest light of the celestial domehas burned me through
And now we areas two still plams lying in darlmess,as two black banks of a frozen streamin the chasm of the world
Our hair combed back...