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Airy Nothing

It would seem I am stuck
With a seething mind.
So I see three roles before me;
Would that I could -
I feel that I should,
And indeed hope
To prove a lover.
 
But that role requires another,
Easy dreamed, and easier sought
Or so I would think,
Were I but rational thought.
I spit on such pretension.
So, ambling along,
Am I (determined yet to prove the rule)
poet, or just the gazing fool?

Midsummer, Act V scene i

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