They Part And if, my friend, you'd have it end, There's naught to hear or tell. But need you try to black my eye In wishing me farewell? Though I admit an edgèd wit In woe is warranted. May I be frank? ... Such words as "----" Are better left unsaid. There's rosemary for you and me; But is it usual, dear. To hire a man, and fill a van By way of _souvenir_? |
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