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Tyger! Tyger! burning bright / In the forests of the night,
We real cool. We / Left school. We Lurk late. We / Strike straight. We
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air. There is just no way you are the pine-scented air.
This is the way the world ends Not with a bang but a whimper.
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
Gather ye rose-buds while ye may, / Old Time is still a-flying;
I think that I shall never see / A poem lovely as a tree.
Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
'Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,'
My candle burns at both ends; / It will not last the night;
Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heav'n.
Candy / Is dandy But liquor / Is quicker.
The dew that flies Suicidal, at one with the drive Into the red
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Blessings on thee, little man, Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!
I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
That is no country for old men. The young In one another's arms, birds in the trees