A Charm With Yarrow
I will pick the smooth yarrow that my figure may be more elegant, that
my lips may be warmer, that my voice may be more cheerful; may my voice
be like a sunbeam, may my lips be like the juice of the strawberries.
May I be an island in the sea, may I be a hill on the land, may I be a star when the moon wanes, may I be a staff to the weak one: I shall wound every man, no man shall wound me.
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