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An Answer
Be quite, sir. Be gone I say
Lord, bless us. How you romp and tear
There, I swear, now you've let my bosom bare
I do not like such boisterous play
So take that saucy hand away
Why now you're ruder than before
Nay, I'll be hanged if I comply
Fie, I'll cry. Oh, I can't bear it -- I shall die
I vow I'll never see you more
But are you sure you shut the door?
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