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A Cold (Ode) by Niphredil All hail to my runny nose!
Like bubbling brook it sings and flows
With gush unchecked by weir or dam,
Unhindered by the hand of man.
My runny nose! I sing to thee,
A waterfall thou'st made of me,
But now my joy in thee is quenched;
Enough! or else I shall be drenched!
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