PROLOGUE.

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"Love, its flutes will still be stringing,
Lovers still will sigh and kneel;
Freedom sets her trumpets ringing
To the clash of smiting steel."
So I weave of love and glory,
Homely toil, and martial show,
Fair romance from the grand story
Lived a century ago.

A Song of a Single Note

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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