I know of no place where the wind can be as icy and the damp so penetrating as in Oxford round about Easter time.
Some burn damp faggots, others may consume The entire combustible world in one small room.
For the air of youth, Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reign A melancholy damp of cold and dry To weigh thy spirits down, and last consume The balm of life.
A demd, damp, moist, unpleasant body!
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