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8 Lines Now Okay
*Image of Lyre by LUT.
8 Lines Now Okay
Irked shadow's occasions a Sun,
Tolls a knell's lowly peal, begun.
Ill winds bade the palls hovering,
Time betrays caused uncovering.
Inch thoust trek thy countenance hid,
The belching rains down thoust forbid.
In looms thoust melt of Luna's lyre,
Thoust lieth in her soothing fire.
2022 August 15
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