I stopped, wherein, no foot had trodden black
to seek to know what life had lacked;
that only in my passing here,
there was no turning back;
and perched, now stood a Fountain there,
where too few had opt for thought,
that I to know the joy it fared,
and paid for what I bought:
Half my Sight for a Knowledge sip,
and half did all I know;
Upon my wit increasing strength
only Sorrow did it grow.
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