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I ranted1 to the knave2 and fool,
Would transform the part, Fit audience found, but cannot rule My fanatic1 heart. I sought my betters: though in each Fine manners, liberal speech, Nothing said or done can reach Out of Ireland have we come. Great hatred, little room, Maimed us at the start. I carry from my mother‘s womb A fanatic heart. 点击收听单词发音
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