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Edit box size: ⇓ More rows Reset to default size ⇒ More columns Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after, And the poetry he invented was easy to understand; He knew human folly like the back of his hand, And was greatly interested in armies and fleets; When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter, And when he cried little children died in the streets. ''-- W.H. Auden, 1939'' This is a minor edit.
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