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				John Clare
      First Love
| I ne'er was struck before that hour My face turned pale as deadly pale, And then my blood rushed up to my face Are flowers the winter's choice? 
 
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| Love is, above all, the gift of oneself. - Jean Anouilh, When I am sad and 
			weary. When I think all hope has gone.  Those have most power to hurt us that we love. - Francis Beaumont | 
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