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51 On Familiarity and Contempt This fawning Iscariot stooping and kneeling like a cur From my garden to earn a carrot On and on exploiting sycophancy for a spur And I for one thinking I had a consanguine growing But this villager in a city stumbled To him heaven he had humbled And so over all he lorded it Even God meant not a bit To this bloated maggot The journey yet was to begin He thought he had arrived That nobles may not for long With serfs and farm hand belong That the aged not for long With the young together belong Fooled by such proximity in bed The shoulder above the head Tries to soar To find its efforts unproductive For only a while can hypocrisy reign As the truth even from the skies will rain. ...

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