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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-07-26 | | Submited by Valeria Pintea
I placed a jar in Tennessee,
And round it was, upon a hill. It made the slovenly wilderness Surround that hill. The wilderness rose up to it, And sprawled around, no longer wild. The jar was round upon the ground And tall and of a port in air. It took dominion everywhere. The jar was gray and bare. It did not give of bird or bush, Like nothing else in Tennessee.
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