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1740

Sweet is the swamp with its secrets,
Until we meet a snake;
'Tis then we sigh for houses,
And our departure take

At that enthralling gallop
That only childhood knows.
A snake is summer's treason,
And guile is where it goes.

Edited by Peter Carter

Added: 2 Apr 2003 | Last Read: 23 May 2013 1:16 PM | Viewed: 6446 times

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