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Lolotte Who Attires My Hair

 Lolotte, who attires my hair,
Lost her lover.
Lolotte weeps; Trails her hand before her eyes; Hangs her head and mopes and sighs, Mutters of the pangs of hell.
Fills the circumambient air With her plaints and her despair.
Looks at me: 'May you never know, Mam'selle Love's harsh cruelty.

by Jessie Redmon Fauset
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