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Earth, receive an honoured guest:

My cerebral story,

anonymous ballad, circa 1620

Let the healing fountain start,

The mountains and the endless plain—

Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;

Jests I love and sweeter than

Of such as, wandering near her secret bower,

For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,

Prisoner to no key,

As apparitional as sails that cross

Or Christmas-addict, counting on a whiff

Teach the free man how to praise.

I learned the eagerness of youth