559 It knew no Medicine— It was not Sickness—then— Nor any need of Surgery— And therefore—`twas not Pain— It moved away the Cheeks— A Dimple at a time— And left the Profile—plainer— And in the place of Bloom It left the little Tint That never had a Name— You`ve seen it on a Cast`s face— Was Paradise—to blame— If momently ajar— Temerity—drew near— And sickened—ever afterward For Somewhat that it saw?SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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