A Character from Proust
He finds that Habit holds too close and holds too tight. “Let go,” He thinks, “I have my breath to catch. What started as a waltz Is now this marathon. I fold within your tireless arms. You were attractive at first. We seemed to fit. Now I cannot recall Your absence. Whatever tawdry witch has cast her spell, I implore To raise her wand. I am too weak now Panic nears. Am I never to guide and be guided by Joy, that radiant other Whose classic head, unknowing of my plight, Rounds into mocking view too often to be chance?” Now he believes that from the start He should have partnered The...
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