A True Hero.

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He wore no crown, he had no sword,
He sat him in no throne of state;
He shed no blood, he spent no hoard,
And therefore was not great;
Yet to his tomb the nations throng:
His heart was love, he sang a song!

When Trouble comes to your front gate and hears you whistling in the back-yard it scares him so bad that he never stops running till he crosses the divide into the next settlement.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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