"And what in the name of Merlin’s most baggy Y Fronts was that about?"

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XI I sang his name instead of song; Over and over I sang his name: Backward and forward I sang it along, With my sweetest notes, it was still the same! I sang it low, that the slave-girls near Might never guess, from what they could hear, That all the song was a name.

— Elizabeth Barrett Browning