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Gentle Traveller
From the softness of Eastern hills O’ gentle traveller you came to understand. When they kill your people, these brutes from dusty plains you understand; for you O’ gentle traveller have fought your battles in hostelries and written poems of revelries that might have been
Stay a while O’ gentle traveller lest the sodden fields of wet western plains, where poppies grow and where emperors fell, and the damp tread of Iron Duke’s feet in ghostly memory of fallen men, claim you back, stay a while, O’ gentle traveller for you will understand.
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