The Talent, To cultivate.

To be'still my soul,
Come'th it now..

Invited I not,
yet come'th, then forth.

This talent, long buried ...
lay dormant it still.

To this, then the garden...
the garden, my soul.

Tragedy, brought for'th,
To cultivate, thus,

This, to the muze,
be grateful, ther'by.

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