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Rudyard Kipling
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Engrave this Quote There rise her timeless capitals of empires daily born,
Whose plinths are laid at midnight and whose streets are packed at morn;
And here come tired youths and maids that feign to love or sin
In tones like rusty razor blades to tunes like smitten tin.
-Rudyard Kipling, Naaman Tell a Friend


 


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