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#1
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The sun that brief December day Rose cheerless over hills of gray, And, darkly circled, gave at noon A sadder light than waning moon.
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#2
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WHEN lilacs last in the door-yard bloom’d,
And the great star early droop’d in the western sky in the night, I mourn’d—and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring. |
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#3
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I could use some help here.
Who said..."evrything is the same...only you are different"...?? Anyone know this? |
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#4
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When false behemouths fall
One shall remain in the eye For false behemouths are small Perhaps you can dot the I |
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#5
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I heard it somewhere....
sorry I am late to this snowy place.....nice to be here.
__________________
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#6
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Quote:
Yes...and may I say it is most enchanting having you here? I think many heard it somewhere.....but only know it when it is nearwhere. Perhaps it should be thought of this way: Life is good...we sing it all aloud We frolic much the same Then the day comes and we don a shroud And now we have no name Lost in thought What life has brought Why are we so estranged Why is all so changed And then it sinks so deep in mind......everything else is the same. Last edited by Mortimer : 10-15-2007 at 02:43 PM. |
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#7
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Quote:
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#8
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Oh my God. I severe my vessels......if not for Jim Tressels. |
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#9
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#10
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Thank you so much. If we are no.1 when you play us...and you beat us.. ...I shall never forgive you. |
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