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What is put on a table, cut, but never eaten?
What is given but kept by the giver?
A serpent swam in a silver urn, A golden bird did in its mouth abide, The serpent drank the water, this in turn, Killed the serpent. Then the gold bird died.
My coat keeps me safe From damage that’s near. I cause you happiness, sadness, Anticipation and fear. On the outside, I am put under judgment of price. But my insides have far more value That not even MONEY can suffice.
A prickly house a little host contains; The pointed weapons keep back from pains, So he, unarmed, safe in his fort remains.
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