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Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek the pale enchanted gold

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Story Bone

When does rapier whit become old-man grumpiness?

It's the other "coming of age" story.

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