For a Picture of St Dorothea
I bear a basket lined with grass;
I am so light,
I am so fair,
That men must wonder as I pass And at the basket that I bear,
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I bear a basket lined with grass;
I am so light,
I am so fair,
That men must wonder as I pass And at the basket that I bear,
I would not paint — a picture —
I'd rather be the One
It's bright impossibility
To dwell — delicious — on —