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Poem by Eleanor Farjeon Sonnets. 8. Wilt thou put seals on love because men say Alas, that ever life’s sleek counterfeit, Convention, should usurp life’s very throne, Setting about the bitter and the sweet Observances the soul disdains to own. It muffles up with bland expedient tongue The wise examination of the mind, Bribing the old and threatening the young And offering easy conduct to the blind. A handbook of few rules for many cases, One answer to more sums than it can prove, With prizes for apt scholars in its paces, A veil for knowledge and a ring for love; And this smooth text for any questioning heart-- Know not, and be less than, the thing thou art. Eleanor Farjeon Eleanor Farjeon's other poems:
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