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![]() For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. |
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![]() Of woman in me; now from head to foot I am marble-constant, now the fleeting moon No planet is of mine. |
![]() Talk like the vulgar sort of market men That come to gather money for their corn. |
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![]() Nor cheer of mind, that I was wont to have. |
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![]() Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. |
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