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And all labor without any play, boys, Makes Jack a dull boy in the end. - Vers de Societe [Labor] I would I were a cigarette Between my Lady's lithe sad lips, Where Death like Love, divinely set. With exquisite sighs and sips, Feeds and is fed. . . . . For life is Love and Love is death, It was my hap, a well-a-day! To burn my little hour away. - Vers de Societe--Madonna Mia [Tobacco]
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