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Who watches over our infant sleep,
who makes the deer nimbler,
the fox fiercer,
the great pines more resourceful;
who lends greatness to old, gnarled fingers,
wanton sugar to maidens' smiles,
and war-like grace to men in their prime;
who brings peace to the wounded hare,
wisdom to the hospital bed,
and fire to the poet's pen.
Here's to death...
but I would evade him a little longer.




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by seanspacey





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