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At The Foresters

Rating: 2.7

The shadows of the gaslit wings
Come softly crawling down our way;
Before the curtain someone sings,
The music sounds from far away;
I lounge beside you in the wings.

Prying and indiscreet, the lights
Illumine, if you haply move,
The prince's dress, the yellow tights,
That fit your figure like a glove:
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6/19/2021 10:32:17 AM # 1.0.0.631