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Awake! Give thyself to the lovely hours.
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Some sleet fell
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We turned our backs against the bitter wind,
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“Do I get to be Marilyn Monroe?” you asked,
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We are the lords of life, and life is warm.
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Gold with a heart of cinder.
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muffling clouds muzzle most sounds
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O, come and help me draw this blanket up,
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A cadence of peace might balance its weight
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sleet pellets jitterbug