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Poem	I think the longest Hour of all Is when the Cars have come -- And we are waiting for the Coach -- It seems as though the Time Indignant -- that the Joy was come -- Did block the Gilded Hands -- And would not let the Seconds by -- But slowest instant -- ends -- The Pendulum begins to count -- Like little Scholars -- loud -- The steps grow thicker -- in the Hall -- The Heart begins to crowd -- Then I -- my timid service done -- Tho' service 'twas, of Love -- Take up my little Violin -- And further North -- remove.
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