Anne Home Hunter Quote


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My mother bids me bind my hair With bands of rosy hue, Tie up my sleeve with ribbands rare, And lace my bodice blue; For why, she cries, sit still and weep, While others dance and play? Alas, I scarce can go or creep, While Rubin is away.  - Anne Home Hunter
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Age is whatever you think it is. You are as old as you think you are.

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