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Wisdom
This I say, and this I know:
Love has seen the last of me.
Love’s a trodden lane to woe,
Love’s a path to misery.
This I know, and knew before,
This I tell you, of my years:
Hide your heart, and lock your door.
Hell’s afloat in lovers’ tears.
Give your heart, and toss and moan;
What a pretty fool you look!
I am sage, who sit alone;
Here’s my wool, and here’s my book.
Look! A lad’s a-waiting there,
Tall he is and bold, and gay.
What the devil do I care
What I know, and what I say?
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