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The hand that signed the paper felled a city; Five sovereign fingers taxed the breath, Doubled the globe of dead and halved1 a country; These five kings did a king to death. The mighty2 hand leads to a sloping shoulder, The finger joints3 are cramped4 with chalk; A goose's quill5 has put an end to murder That put an end to talk. The hand that signed the treaty bred a fever, And famine grew, and locusts6 came; Great is the hand the holds dominion7 over The five kings count the dead but do not soften9 The crusted wound nor pat the brow; A hand rules pity as a hand rules heaven; Hands have no tears to flow.
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