In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. And, though neither peace nor innocence can be restored to my bosom; though tears cannot blot out my offences, nor sorrow drown my shame; yet, knowing that my penitence is sincere, I do not despair that my transgressions may be forgiven. I wonder if you will mind very much when I tell you they were suggested by you.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 12-09-2024 08:33:15
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