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First Line: Women, strange source whence joys and torture
Last Line: Have clung to lover's lips five thousand years.


WOMAN, strange source whence joys and torture rise,
Mysterious altar where in sacrifice
We hear alternate prayers and blasphemies,
Say in what echo, in what air, reside
Those nameless words, which through all ages bide;
And though but madness, yet 'mid smiles and tears,
Have clung to lover's lips five thousand years.





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