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Sao Bento Monastery | ||
| Monks all clad in black or green Only Sunday can be seen. In the monastery kirk They have come to do their work. Chanting, singing as of yore, Over missals they all pore. Praising God in their own way, Mid the incense all a-sway. Cherubim are all aglow At the worship down below. Centuries have come and gone, Yet the spirit lingers on. | ||
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