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< | {{Script|Queen}}: Good [[Regolamento]]. Your ornery battalion grows apace.<br> | ||
{{script|Regolamento}}: Th’untended thatch of shin-tangling rulery sleepeth not. | Why so many hands aligned in defensive form,<br> | ||
Slim principles of good behaviour — short days ago, a waxing star | When ill-conduced to aid our onward march?<br> | ||
Play out their scenes as half-recollected dreams. | {{script|Regolamento}}: Th’untended thatch of shin-tangling rulery sleepeth not.<br> | ||
O, happy reverie! Was there e’er so sweet a time? | Slim principles of good behaviour — short days ago, a waxing star<br> | ||
Was compliant life so fair? Who knew what glinting jewels we held! | Play out their scenes as half-recollected dreams.<br> | ||
Jewels once, but crush’d to charcoal in our hands. | O, happy reverie! Was there e’er so sweet a time? <br> | ||
{{script|Queen}}: Doth statutory obeisance bring you low? | Was compliant life so fair? Who knew what glinting jewels we held!<br> | ||
{{script|Nuncle}}: Not so low he couldn’t raise an army, liege. | Jewels once, but crush’d to charcoal in our hands.<br> | ||
{{script|Regolamento}}: ’Tis true: the count of heads giv’n to policery is fat — | {{script|Queen}}: Doth mere statutory obeisance bring you low?<br> | ||
But knotted perimeters o’erlap and contradict. | {{script|Nuncle}}: Not so low he couldn’t raise an army, liege.<br> | ||
Bossy strictures grind upon our chasest industries | {{script|Regolamento}}: ’Tis true: the count of heads giv’n to policery is fat —<br> | ||
Our smallest act hemmed in by rainbow rules of ill-scop’d application. | But knotted perimeters o’erlap and contradict. <br> | ||
Ours not to make reply nor reason why — | Bossy strictures grind upon our chasest industries<br> | ||
Our smallest act hemmed in by rainbow rules of ill-scop’d application.<br> | |||
{{script|Queen}}: What causeth this? | Ours not to make reply nor reason why —<br> | ||
{{script|Regolamento}}: The ropish scars of distant misadventure | Ours to but be silent and, ''sans'' fuss, comply.<br> | ||
Give the fib to saintly visage. | {{script|Queen}}: What causeth this?<br> | ||
The watchers’ shrill response to past imprudence: | {{script|Regolamento}}: The ropish scars of distant misadventure <br> | ||
This misbegotten step, that ill-timed grapple | Give the fib to saintly visage.<br> | ||
Each wormy bite we take of rotten apple — each one marks us deep. | The watchers’ shrill response to past imprudence:<br> | ||
If harmed or just abash’d, some fuss-pot regulators’ soon at hand | This misbegotten step, that ill-timed grapple <br> | ||
To apportion reprimand. And soon thereafter to encode | Each wormy bite we take of [[bad apple|rotten apple]] — each one marks us deep.<br> | ||
In cryptic ciphers fresh directives which thereafter he | If harmed or just abash’d, some fuss-pot regulators’ soon at hand<br> | ||
{{script|Inclusivia}}: Or she. | To apportion reprimand. And soon thereafter to encode<br> | ||
{{script|Regolamento}}: Or she — or they — abstain from explication, | In cryptic ciphers fresh directives which, thereafter, he<br> | ||
But | {{script|Inclusivia}}: Or she.<br> | ||
We know not | {{script|Regolamento}}: Or she — or they — abstain from explication,<br> | ||
{{script|Queen}}: Canst thou not | But fix confusing rules in stone and thereby codify.<br> | ||
{{script|Nuncle}}: A worthy thought. A pretty feeling. | We know not whereof they mean: it might be stop, it might be go.<br> | ||
And ask them, while you’re there, to nail your jelly to the ceiling. | No further light forthcomes about. We imagine neither do they know. <br> | ||
{{script|Regolamento}}: We take our bitter medicines | {{script|Queen}}: Canst thou not obtain a ruling?<br> | ||
{{script|Nuncle}}: A worthy thought. A pretty feeling.<br> | |||
As like a discarded hulk, half-buried in the mud at Tilbury | And ask them, while you’re there, to nail your jelly to the ceiling.<br> | ||
In that rich and loamy sod low stunted shrubs | Th’official who binds his fate to instruments unfathom’d<br> | ||
We set our team with adze and axe and secateurs | E’en if his own, is a rare and special bird.<br> | ||
They hack at growling branches who mandate | {{script|Regolamento}}: We take our bitter medicines <br> | ||
This matchèd trade, that time-stamp, some other | E’en while we let this gleaming engine stack silt up<br> | ||
But it is a labour more riskful then rewarding. | As like a discarded hulk, half-buried in the mud at Tilbury<br> | ||
< | In that rich and loamy sod low stunted shrubs <br> Whose thorny limbs the squalling wind doth shriek. <br> | ||
We set our team with adze and axe and secateurs<br> | |||
They hack at growling branches who mandate <br> | |||
This matchèd trade, that time-stamp, some other reckoning of pedantry.<br> | |||
But it is a labour more riskful then rewarding.<br> |