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In the ancient time, lived a damsel lingered so solemn. As willful as rainfall, as true as the rose; the doubt of future foes exiles her present joy and wit her warns to shun such snares as threaten mine annoy; for falsehood now doth flow, and subjects' faith doth ebb, which should not be if reason ruled or wisdom weaved the web. But clouds of joys untried do cloak aspiring minds, which turn to rain of late repent by changed course of winds. ㅤㅤ
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