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When
Butler
Yeats his
lesson learned
he sank into the cider churn.
Will he spin out? That's a matter
even old men hope and dream,
the cider hard, the old bald pate
inebriates guests, but cold the plate.
Matter poured conforms to cup,
its circles now gesticulate,
there is unwept one
lesson learned
though all
of monde
Eire
turn.
This
was
written
once in stone,
horseman pass,
cast a cold eye
on death,
none
come
again.
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