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 The Lady Visitor in the Pauper Ward by Robert Graves 
						Why do you break upon this old, cool peace, This painted peace of ours,
 With harsh dress hissing like a flock of geese,
 With garish flowers?
 Why do you churn smooth waters rough again,
 Selfish old skin-and-bone?
 Leave us to quiet dreaming and slow pain,
 Leave us alone.
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