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William Wordsworth · Romanticismo
inglés
In the Muse's paths I stray;
Among their groves and by their sacred springs
My haul delights to trace unusual things,
And deviates from the known and common way:
Nor will in fading skills compose,
Faintly the inimitable rose,
Fill up an ill-drawn bird, or paint on glass
The treat'ning angel, and the speaking ass.
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