Since middle age I’ve been dabbling in the arcane.
Lately a home at Mount South’s foot do I maintain.
I oft go out alone as my whim urges me,
Mindful of the wondrous things that I know in vain.

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I stroll along the brook, reaching its very end;
Then I sit there and watch the clouds as they ascend.
And if I chance upon an old man in the woods,
We chat and laugh, not knowing when to homeward tend.

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