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Break it.

#184
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...it doesn't hit you, but it hits a deep puddle after the rain, into which you happened to step completely by chance, and you're even barefoot.

I draw a circle...
O God of Earth and Altar,
Bow down and hear our cry,
Our earthly rulers falter,
Our people drift and die,
The walls of gold entomb us,
The swords of scorn divide,
Take not thy thunder from us,
Take away our pride.


G.K. Chesterton: English Hymnal