Or Blake, who scarce one episode himself unmasks.
Thy Oracle is spent, from wandering
Within the pattern of infinity
And now is heard no more.
Somatic balm th' inebriate thief hath drunk,
And to the tracking gallery all life is shrunk.
Who loved and slay’d thee died, yet still can laugh.
‘I set this up … for you’, which is thy epitaph.
Apologies John Donne