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Stephanie Jean
Moreover my lass, I will tell you again,
Tis a fair land your walking upon.
With your locks of gold, and your eyes flashing blue,
and your limbs flowing around.
The world is your castle, your heart is the gate,
An athenaeum resides in your hills.
When my lady pretends to be what she's not,
When she smothers in baubles and frills,
I'll remind my lass of the time of her birth,
And the fair land she's walking upon.
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Stephanie Jean
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