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- CHURCH AND STATE
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- HERE is fresh matter, poet,
- Matter for old age meet;
- Might of the Church and the State,
- Their mobs put under their feet.
- O but heart's wine shall run pure,
- Mind's bread grow sweet.
- That were a cowardly song,
- Wander in dreams no more;
- What if the Church and the State
- Are the mob that howls at the door!
- Wine shall run thick to the end,
- Bread taste sour.
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