¶ Pad, bare of foot in this, the wandring wood In maille, chained of perennial forlorn; Thus goes the knight. ‘O, herald my predawn You handsome harbinger, at my salute, Or elseways flit far, in mocking frockcoat,’ He implored of the magpie — ‘O, Willow, Weep as you may, teach me to bear sorrow, With the supple stoicism you boast.’ — She came, mercurial moonlight, tracing Dappled path across calico carpets, Will-o'-the-wisp, ‘til they were Glen-facing. Moss bed, for the dogged head of our Varlet. I came to, in her dorm room, told of this. Her kindness put all into perspective.
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