| As I went out one morning
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| To breathe the air around Tom Paine’s
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| I spied the fairest damsel
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| That ever did walk in chains
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| I offered her my hand
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| She took me by the arm
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| I knew that very instant
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| She meant to do me harm
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| «Depart from me this moment»
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| I told her with my voice
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| Said she, «But I don’t wish to»
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| Said I, «But you have no choice»
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| «I beg you, sir,» she pleaded
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| From the corners of her mouth
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| «I will secretly accept you
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| And together we’ll fly south»
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| Just then Tom Paine, himself
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| Came running from across the field
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| Shouting at this lovely girl
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| And commanding her to yield
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| And as she was letting go her grip
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| Up Tom Paine did run
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| «I'm sorry, sir,» he said to me
|
| «I'm sorry for what she’s done» |