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Not far away from infancy— Through weary time a single stage, The livelong years had hustled by But left him still of tender age, When from his mother’s reach he fled, Outside the doors to make his bed.
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Not far away from infancy— Through weary time a single stage, The livelong years had hustled by But left him still of tender age, When from his mother’s reach he fled, Outside the doors to make his bed.
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