MAGIC IN THE WEB

   Up from the dark, inchoate depths of mind,
   Where everything coherent is divined,
   A notion rose on which he’d long opined:
   The question, “How a poem is designed.”

   No sooner sought, but he began to find
   An answer with which fitting words aligned:
   That rhyme itself is naturally inclined
   To weave a web with sound and sense combined.

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