she said we were't being taught enough.
Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside, And naked on the Air of Heaven ride, were't not a Shame were't not a Shame for him In this clay carcase crippled to abide?
were't the last drop in the well, As I gasp'd upon the brink, Ere my fainting spirit fell 'T is to thee that I would drink.lord byron
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