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One houshold, where simply daught'd rain Of proudy parents who declaire that pain By marriage, by Lord's power's stain To limitate and church declane: Her feelings, liberty and soul arttificate, There aren't anything to be mistificate... To only chance to hide their shame abot Girlfriend - her needs? Burn it, burn! Got! Yes now the half hour's traff of stage While were you with small patient ears attend, What here cute miss, my toil shall strive revent.
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