The insect-queen of eastern spring, / O'er emerald meadows of Kashmeer / Invites the young pursuer near, / And leads him on from flower to flower / A weary chase and wasted hour.
I fell in lub wid a yallow gal, dat carried a milking pail; / Wha do you tink I see her first? why, sitting on a rail.
This man has a forked tongue and lacks credibility.
to fly in the face of danger
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