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Title: Slander
Author: Jean Blewett [ More Titles by Blewett]
He does the devil's basest work, no less, Who deals in calumnies--who throws the mire On snowy robes whose hem he dare not press His foul lips to. The pity of it! Liar, Yet half believed by such as deem the good Or evil but the outcome of a mood. That one who, with the breath lent him by Heaven, Speaks words that on some white soul do reflect, Is lost to decency, and should be driven Outside the pale of honest men's respect. O slanderer, hell's imps must say of you: "He does the work we are ashamed to do!"
[The end] Jean Blewett's poem: Slander ________________________________________________
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