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Poem	NO man should stand before the moon To make sweet song thereon, With dandified importance, His sense of humor gone. Nay, let us don the motley cap, The jester's chastened mien, If we would woo that looking-glass And see what should be seen. O mirror on fair Heaven's wall, We find there what we bring. So, let us smile in honest part And deck our souls and sing. Yea, by the chastened jest alone Will ghosts and terrors pass, And fays, or suchlike friendly things, Throw kisses through the glass.
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