Fools! must we ever quarrel with our fate, Too late Reading the worth of what we did despise, And wise At the journey`s end to weep it scarce begun When done? No more! `Tis ever the same story told As of old. Children, we used to wish our childhood past: At last It ended, as this journey ends, and we Are free. Shall we lament? It were an idle tale To wail. Can we be wise? Oh wisdom comes too late, And fate Answers our wicked prayer for liberty: ``Good--bye.``SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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