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1693 The Sun retired to a cloud A Woman's shawl as big— And then he sulked in mercury Upon a scarlet log— The drops on Nature's forehead stood Home flew the loaded bees— The South unrolled a purple fan And handed to the trees. Edited by Peter Carter
Added: 2 Apr 2003 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 4:11 PM | Viewed: 7645 times
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