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I knew the proper attitude to take, I registered my awe of Shake'n Blake. I cried aloud that Chaucer was the goods And bowed my head at Robert's snowy woods. Until my muse, to save its entity, Came striding up and quietly counseled me To chance my voice! No matter if the sound Should make the learned smile or turn around To stare me down for my impertinence, I'd outface them with my indifference. So here I come, foolhardy as those birds Defying gravity, so I, with words, And pray that Pegasus is standing by To keep me airborne till I learn to fly.

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