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FLESH I have knocked at many a dusty door

FLESH I have knocked at many a dusty door
Gone down full many a midnight lane
Probed in old walls and felt along the floor
Pressed in blind hope the lighted window pane
But useless all though sometimes when the moon
Was full in heaven and the sea was full
Along my body's alleys came a tune
Played in the tavern by the Beautiful.
Then for an instant I have felt at point
To find and seize her whosoe'er she be
Whether some saint whose glory doth anoint
Those whom she loves or but a part of me
Or something that the things not understood
Make for their uses out of flesh and blood..

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by:- admin posted in:- john masefield

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