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Upon these wings I oft abscond, Ascension to a holy place, Extracted from this fetid pond, To capture God’s eternal grace, For a moment I remain, Suspended by a silver thread, Raised above my earthly pain, Until these wings I sadly shed, Alas the journey’s very short, Hence a feather I shall score, And by this pinion I bought, Again alight on Heaven’s shore. When I hear the spheres in song, Through benighted thoughts they cleave, If it’s there that I belong, Then why am I compelled to leave?... Sign in to see full entry.