Woman! when you told me we are birds of same feathers
You stole the chocolate from my heart
We almost bleed under your boobian chest
We almost render singspiration ...
In Genoa, when the sunset gave
Its last warm purple to the wave,
No sound of war, no voice of fear,
Was heard, announcing danger near:
Though deadliest foes were there, whose hate
But slumber'd till its hour of fate,
Yet calmly, at the twilight's close,
Sunk the wide city to repose.
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