Your triumph rustsdevoid for novel, yet let it standas precious to slight so it might.meter without measure, requisite temperingred clay, said soil begets one palpable truthcarnal exchange comes then forgoes that circumstance of pomp;A desparate thirst never quench his eye.How fared those ilk, when twilight gave rise?Myth be not creed: all but so urged.Beware, and…

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