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Among shrubs they do groan, Under nettles they are gathered together.

Sons of folly -- even sons without name, They have been smitten from the land.

And now, their song I have been, And I am to them for a byword.

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They brayed(A) among the bushes(B)
    and huddled in the undergrowth.
A base and nameless brood,(C)
    they were driven out of the land.(D)

“And now those young men mock me(E) in song;(F)
    I have become a byword(G) among them.

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