We lose you, but we lose to win.。，Herself not yielding what it won:-
。，A monstrous semblance mocks her soul!
While loud the Year is raising cry。，
。，Meanwhile the mark I have and I will wed.
From speaking to the soul of us forthright。，Even such, and by this token, is their youth.
I left Koby crouched in the dust,。，
In some rich year become a dream:-。，Strike not thy dog with a stick!
Who courts her dooms to strife his bended neck;。，With memory of the old revolt from Awe,
And warn it, not one instinct to efface。，
。，Spouting the founts of her distillery
The misery's there! The shameless one。，
The dog lifted muzzle, and sniffed;。，Oh! for the strenuous mind in quest,
Till we conceive her living we go distraught,。，
And those beneath my feet I tread.'。，XXIV
。，At my poor holding little would be spilt;
。，God's blessings let us take, and feed!'
Divinest, but his lyric had a tone,。，Adjures mankind to sheathe the sword,
，Never to think they could rejoin.。，But can a distant race discern