Out of Transvaal's wild bushveld wide
Rises blue mountain, and on its side
There does abide a woman on her own, Louise.
Across the continent has fickle fate
A farmer placed in lonely state
Who much of late dreams of her alone, Louise.
Now through thin air where eagles cry
Fleet the streams of binary numbers fly
With each reply the friendship's grown, Louise.
Born of these exchanges, friendship's song
Through common interests kindles strong
And prospers long, rich in shared affinities, Louise.
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