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Poem	Nay, why reproach each other, be unkind, For there's no plane on which we two may meet? Let's both forgive, forget, for both were blind, And life is of a day, and time is fleet. And I am fire, swift to flame and burn, Melting with elements high overhead, While you are water in an earthly urn, All pure, but heavy, and of hue like lead.
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