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      Golden-hair’d Ally whose name is one with mine,
      Crazy with laughter and babble and earth’s new wine,
      Now that the flower of a year and a half is thine,
      O little blossom, O mine, and mine of mine,
      Glorious poet who never hast written a line,
      Laugh, for the name at the head of my verse is thine.
      May’st thou never be wrong’d by the name that is mine!