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May much stay out of our stated plan,
Apples or something forgotten and left,
So smelling their sweetness would be no theft.
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face
My anger (Your wonder)
Vulgar (Forward)
Awkward (Sincere)
Composure (Manners)
Here we are at the fated land
I will make it end (Will you watch me end?)