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 Sonnet 01 by Alan Seeger 
						Sidney, in whom the heyday of romance Came to its precious and most perfect flower,
 Whether you tourneyed with victorious lance
 Or brought sweet roundelays to Stella's bower,
 I give myself some credit for the way
 I have kept clean of what enslaves and lowers,
 Shunned the ideals of our present day
 And studied those that were esteemed in yours;
 For, turning from the mob that buys Success
 By sacrificing all Life's better part,
 Down the free roads of human happiness
 I frolicked, poor of purse but light of heart,
 And lived in strict devotion all along
 To my three idols -- Love and Arms and Song.
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