The Laws of Verse

DEAR laws, come to my breast!
Take all my frame, and make your close arms meet
Around me; and so ruled, so warmed, so pressed,
I breathe, aware; I feel my wild heart beat.
Dears laws, be wings to me!
The feather merely floats. O be it heard
Through weight of life — the skylark's gravity —
That I am not a feather, but a bird.
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