O
 
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sweet spontaneous
earth how often have
the
doting
 
      fingers of
prurient philosophers pinched
and
poked
 
thee
,has the naughty thumb
of science prodded
thy
 
   beauty     .how
often have religions taken
thee upon their scraggy knees
squeezing and

buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive
gods
    (but
true
to the incomparable
couch of death thy
rhythmic
lover
 
     thou answerest
 
them only with
 
              spring)