Don'tlookatmedon'ttalktomedon'tcomenearmedon'ttouchmeleavemealone

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"Beauty is but a flower,
Which wrinkles will devour;
Brightness falls from the air;
Queens have died young and fair;
Dust hath closed Helen's eye.
I am sick, I must die;
Lord have mercy on us."
Thomas Nash, Song in Time of Pestilence
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