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When Lovely Woman Stoops to Folly
When lovely woman stoops to folly,
And finds too late that men betray,
What charm can soothe her melancholy,
What art can wash her guilt away?
The only art her guilt to cover,
To her shaime from every eye,
To give repentance to her lover,
And wring his bosom--is to die.
-- Oliver Goldsmith