XII. MAGNA EST VERITAS.
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ere, in this little Bay,Full of tumultuous life and great repose,Where, twice a day,The purposeless, glad ocean comes and goes,Under high cliffs, and far from the huge town,I sit me down.For want of me the world's course will not fail:When all its work is done, the lie shall rot;The truth is great, and shall prevail,When none cares whether it prevail or not.
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