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In the flask that here I hold
Both the worlds one may behold;
Where’s the vision, to divine
The wide vista that is mine?

Madman comes again to town
Crying clamour up and down:
See, a hundred riots start
From the passion of my heart.

Grieve not foolishly, my friend,
Lest the dark of night descend;
Lo, the brand upon my brow
Gleams in starry splendour now.

Take me for thy comrade true;
Yet I fear, if so thou do,
Thou hast not the strength to bear
The vast tumult I prepare