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							| Posted by Bluesy Socrateaser on Mon Mar 02, 2009  4:02 am |  
							| Willows weeping, lovers sleeping,
<br />British breezes never rest.
<br />O'er the isles in slumbers keeping,
<br />This shall be my solemn quest.
<br />And where my feet do trod the thresholds
<br />Of the maidens fair and few,
<br />When in London, pray the natives,
<br />Lay your efforts as they do.
<br />For where the dawn shall meet you kindly,
<br />There the wise man's flag will flail,
<br />Union Jack will then discover,
<br />Masts at half, yet full to sail. 
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