Flower of Love Zippy Kid (Ft. Infiltrator)

Sweet, I blame you not, for mine the fault
Was, had I not been made of common clay
I had climbed the higher heights unclimbed
Yet, seen the fuller air, the larger day

From the wildness of my wasted passion I had
Struck a better, clearer song
Lit some lighter light of freer freedom, battled
With some Hydra-headed wrong

Had my lips been smitten into music by the
Kisses that but made them bleed
You had walked with Bice and the angels on
That verdant and enamelled mead

I had trod the road which Dante treading saw
The suns of seven circles shine
Ay! perchance had seen the heavens opening
As they opened to the Florentine

And the mighty nations would have crowned
Me, who am crownless now and without name
And some orient dawn had found me kneeling
On the threshold of the House of Fame

I had sat within that marble circle where the
Oldest bard is as the young
And the pipe is ever dropping honey, and the
Lyre's strings are ever strung