Cranford

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"Nay sisters.
My Father was a man.
I think therefore I may understand the sex."

Miss Pole

Love took up the glass of Time, and turn’d it in his glowing hands;
Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sands.
Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might;
Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass’d in music out of sight.

Alfred Lord Tennyson

1809 - 1892

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