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Though secure of our hearts, yet confoundedly sick If they were not his own by finessing and trick: He cast off his friends as a huntsman his pack, For he knew when he pleased he could whistle them back. The Traveller, the Deserted Village, and Other Poems - 96 ÆäÀÌÁö ÀúÀÚ: Oliver Goldsmith - 1822 - 154 ÆäÀÌÁö Àüüº¸±â -
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