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Simon Danz has come home again,
From cruising about with his buccaneers;
He has singed the beard of the King of Spain,
And carried away the Dean of Jaen
And sold him in Algiers.
In his house by the Maes, with its roof of tiles
And weathercocks flying aloft in air,
There are silver tankards of antique styles,
Plunder of conve
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