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 WHAT pleasure to me
A bridegroom would be!
When married we are,
They call us mamma.
No need then to sew, To school we ne'er go; Command uncontroll'd, Have maids, whom to scold; Choose clothes at our ease, Of what tradesmen we please; Walk freely about, And go to each rout, And unrestrained are By papa or mamma.

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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