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I am holy, yet at the last, I am cut
And forced to follow the wise ones
Ceased from the rubbings of the body,
Having turned me into this great evil. |
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In Yorktown, relinquished he his sword,
His wall is utterly stripped away.
He falls upon the cobblestones,
Where all its blest ones have gone astray. |
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What is the remnant of this extremely sad exhibition?
b2-b4 b7-b5
d2-d4 d7-d5
g2-g4 g7-g5
h2-h4 g5xh4
g1-h3 f8-g7
b1-d2 g7xd4
c2-c3 e7-e6
c3xd4 d8-g5
h3xg5 b8-a6
g5xf7 h7-h6
f1-g2 e6-e5
f7xe5 g8-f6
f2-f4 e8-e7
d1-b3 f6xg4
f4-f5 c8xf5
d2-e4 a6-c5
a2-a4 a8-d8
a4xb5 c5-d3+
e1-d2 h8-g8
a1-a6 g8-g5
e4-g3 f5-g6
e5xg6+ e7-d7
a6-b6 a7xb6
h1-h2 d7-e6
b3-c2 d8-d6
c2xc7 d3-e5
c1-b2 d6-d7
c7-c2 e5-d3
c2-b3 d7-d6
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The Village director,
His initial a number,
His middle make plural,
His last disremember.
Add one to the group
And within this book,
The tale weaver’s name
Is that for which I look. |
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