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and breaketh bread no more
once this soft turf
just as my fingers on these keys
i never knew the earth had so much gold
under a spreading chestnut tree
o fair and stately maid, whose eyes
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
let us express our baser passions
who will be naming the wind
they may talk of love in a cottage
i loathed you
i am a woman

 



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