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6:56am AEST, about to head to Campaspe for our training camp!
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Be not afeard. The isle is full of noises, sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments will hum about mine ears; and sometimes voices,
That, if I then had wak'd after long sleep, will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open and show riches ready to drop upon me, that, when I wak'd, I cried to dream again.
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