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The Honourable Adulterers

…d the frost burns like fire before my eyes, While the white breeze awoke with slumberous sighs And stirred the branches of the pine ; it knows, It surely knows how weary are the wise. Even my horse my sorrow understands, Would turn and bear me to those western lands; In love would turn me back ; in love would bring My thirsty lips to the one perfect spring— My iron soul upon my trembling hands Fad its harsh will ; my bitterness was king.