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You wept in your mother's arms and I knew that from then on I was to forget myself. Listening to your sobs, I was resolved aga...
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On occasion we wonder what our purpose in life is, We don't listen to our inner voice, ignoring his. Something inside propels us to act...
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Let it not your wonder move, Less your laughter, that I love. Though I now write fifty years, I have had, and have, my peers. Poets, th...
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Anna, thy charms my bosom fire, And waste my soul with care; But ah! how bootless to admire, When fated to despair! Yet in th...
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Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind, But as for me, alas, I may no more. The vain travail hath wearied me so sore, I am of them ...
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