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8.
Readers die like poets
Death is not a dream
Commas are fardels
Quartos will have
Their fling. Devils rise
Above their inky cloak
A child cries on this train
Easy to hear, hard to read.
Readers die like poets
Death is not a dream
Commas are fardels
Quartos will have
Their fling. Devils rise
Above their inky cloak
A child cries on this train
Easy to hear, hard to read.