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Why make it doubtit hurts it so
So sickto guess
So strongto know
So braveupon its little Bed
To tell the very last They said
Unto Itselfand smileAnd shake
For that deardistantdangerousSake
Butthe Insteadthe Pinching fear
That Somethingit did door dare
Offend the Visionand it flee
And They no more remember me
Nor ever turn to tell me why
Oh, Master, This is Misery