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As Shakespeare shall write of his kings, so I shall write
of mine.
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We shall cover the ground with love’s growth, and upon the earth with love’s tree we shall sod, Spreading its fruit in abundance
unto a lover, unto our brother, unto each other, and unto God.
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Ambition’s feet are quick to greener pasture.
Love awaits you at the gate With the patience of two thousand years and still holds an infinitely better fate.
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