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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

EXCUSES, by                    
First Line: Forbear, my love
Last Line: In mud and slime.


Forbear, my love,
To scold me so
That I should rove
In haunts so low.

The meanest lair,
Howe'er it stank,
Would not impair
My faith and rank.

The sun, methinks,
Still rules sublime,
Although he sinks
In mud and slime.





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