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<p>A Song Against Care</p>
<p> O Care!<br/>
Thou art a cloak too heavy to be borne,<br/>
Glittering with tears, and gay with painted lies<br/>
(For seldom—seldom art thou stained and torn,<br/>
Showing a tattered lining, and the bare<br/>
Bruised body of thy wearer); thou art fair<br/>
To look at, O thou garment of our pride!<br/>
A net of colours, thou dost catch the wise;<br/>
He lays aside his wisdom for thy sake . . .<br/>
And Beauty hides her loveliness in thee . . .<br/>
And after . . . when men know the agony<br/>
Of thy great weight of splendour, and would shake<br/>
Thee swiftly from their shoulders, cast aside<br/>
The burden of thy jewelled bands that break<br/>
Their very hearts . . . often it is too late.<br/>
They fear the world will mock them and deride<br/>
When they are stripped of all their golden state.<br/>
But some are brave . . . but some among us dare<br/>
Cry out against thy torment and be free!<br/>
And I would rather a gay beggar be,<br/>
And go in rags for all eternity,<br/>
Than that thy clanking pomp should cover me,<br/>
O Care! . . .</p>
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