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The Muse | ||
| Who can say whence comes the muse? When it calls, one can't refuse. Every day it speaks to me Of a spirit true and free. All I do is sit and write Anything that comes in sight. Sometimes it may be profound, Where a noble truth is found. Sometimes it may silly be! Just some fun for you and me. I shall write what e'er I hear Till the muse shall disappear. | ||
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