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And, after, feigning pique at what she call'd / The raillery, or grotesque, or false sublime— / Like one that wishes at a dance to change / The music—clapt her hands and cried for war, / Or some grand fight to kill and make an end: […]
And, after, feigning pique at what she call'd / The raillery, or grotesque, or false sublime— / Like one that wishes at a dance to change / The music—clapt her hands and cried for war, / Or some grand fight to kill and make an end: […]