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from his chain, and took a piece of paper from a drawer.
release time：2023-11-30 00:12:05 source：net of attack author：{typename type="name"/}
(Heigh-ho to be home from the sea!)
No pilot but Death at the rudderless wheel,
(None knoweth the harbor as he!)
To lie where the slow tide creeps hither and fro
And the shifting sand laps me around, for I know
That my gallant old crew are in Port long ago --
For ever at peace with the sea!
Of old, like Helen, guerdon of the strong --
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