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A tailor:
Fate cuts the thread of life, as all men know,
And Fate cut his, though he so well could sew.
It matters not how fine the web is spun,
'Tis all unravelled when our course is run.
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Here lies an editor.
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On a horse thief:
He found a rope and picked it up,
And with it walked away.
It happened that to tother end
A horse was hitched, they say.
They took the rope and tied it up
Unto a hickory limb.
It happened that the tother end
Was somehow hitched to him.
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