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Locked arm in arm they cross the wayThe black boy and the white,The golden splendor of the dayThe sable pride of night.From lowered blinds the dark folk stareAnd here the fair folk talk,Indignant that these two should dareIn unison to walk.Oblivious to look and wordThey pass, and see no wonderThat lightning brilliant as a swordShould blaze the path of thunder.
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