'Tis when the wits I have are gone
The finer powers appear;
The spirit of phantasy leads me on,
And gives my heart her cheer.
The all-licensed fool the mad king had
Was but the light of Lear,
His soul's familiar, motley clad,
That told him no lies here.
The Finer Spirit.
Robert Crawford
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Poem topics: heart, light, soul, king, spirit, fool, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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