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1 " Punctually at Christmas the soft plush Of sentiment snows down, embosoms all The sharp and pointed shapes of venom, shawls The hills and hides the shocking holes of this Uneven world of want and wealth, cushions With cosy wish like cotton-wool the cool Arm's-length interstices of caste and class, And into obese folds subtracts from sight All truculent acts, bleeding the world white. "
― W.R. Rodgers
