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        Topic:
        question for the ladys...
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      Dearest, let these roses 
 In their purity, Be a present symbol Of my love for thee. Underneath the blossom Thorns are sure to grow; Take heed lest you touch them, They would pain you so! Ah! my faults like thorns are, But cannot they be Hidden 'neath the flower Of my love for thee? | |
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