Poetry, and me

Poetry has made me a sad tool of me by times -- & broken into that independence which is   or ought to belong to every man by birth right – travellers situation is no riddle to me now – tho I used to wonder over it when I had no friends – A traveller who had been questioned as to what he had seen & where he had been declared that (he) had been so far as to be able to get no further (to) see the greatest of wonders & being at last forced to turn back as not being able to place even a sixpence (between) the earth & the sky & altho the earth & sky did not actually grow together…

Pet MS A53 p49r&v

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