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“Ah! stir well your fancy, fear not to tell me those deep heart secrets now,look the sun goes down the high hills and by the tree shades we sat,in adored pose;along side the lake we sat,kissed by the winds nigh.” — Nithin Purple
Ah! stir well your fancy, fear not to tell me those deep heart secrets now,look the sun goes down the high hills and by the tree shades we sat,in adored pose;along side the lake we sat,kissed by the winds nigh.