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But I would not let my rage go, I had grown to love it so . . I could not say no when he came with his familiar pain, how I enjoyed the rising again in my heart of that shouting that howling that seething pain, that begging for revenge - that sweet surrender to hate.
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How the Chimney-sweeper's cry Every black'ning Church appalls, and the hapless Soldier's sigh Runs in blood down Palace walls cont'd |
