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the gust beareth threads more tender than silk and the breath of heaven, rising with the first light of dawn carrieth softly a letter, sincere and full of virtue's overflow, an invitation to friendship. 'am i worthy of such a gift?' whispereth the angel, burdened by the weight of her own wings. 'thou art worthy, be thou a friend' uttereth the seraph with a voice most gentle and divine.

                     borne forth upon the gentle gust.
                     behold her: daniella.
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