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Excerpt from Divine Discontent
Q singssings by my window on the bough of an apple tree; but, for all his pertness, he is an innocent too and finds contentment without much to-do. His business does not mock at good daylight, he does not go far from home. And unlike that ragged beggar of the streets whose misery makes him sing, the robin sings for gladness, or there is no reason for him to sing at all.
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