DON QUIXOTE

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So matchless big that each might well
  Be called the great "Alone."

Manchegan Nero, look not down
  From thy Tarpeian Rock
Upon this burning heart, nor add
  The fuel of thy wrath.

A virgin soft and young am I,
  Not yet fifteen years old;
(I'm only three months past fourteen,
  I swear upon my soul).

I hobble not nor do I limp,
  All blemish I'm without,
And as I walk my lily locks
  Are trailing on the ground.