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 THE BROKEN MEN

For things we never mention,

For Art misunderstood—

For excellent intention

That did not turn to good;

From ancient tales' renewing,

From clouds we would not clear—

Beyond the Law's pursuing

We fled, and settled here.

We took no tearful leaving,

We bade no long good-byes;

Men talked of crime and thieving,

Men wrote of fraud and lies.

To save our injured feelings

'Twas time and time to go—

Behind was dock and Dartmoor,

Ahead lay Callao!

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