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THE CRIME

(Censored but still intelligible)

Like the edge of a saw,

Or smooth, like a touchable skin

When once it is down

With a smile or a frown

It works just the same from within.

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Song of the Puritan

O Munich drinks its l-g-r- b--r,

And Devonshire its a-e,

But I in bleak New England

Drink c-d-r by the pail.

I shun the merry cavalier,

Eschew the ways of flesh

But when it comes to c-d-r,

I do not like it fresh.

So, bung your casks a year or two,

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