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What deceit may lurk in kisses!
What delight in make-believe!
To cheat others, sure, a bliss is!
If I'm gulled too, should I grieve?
Play the prude demure, my dearest,
Thou'lt relent in time, I trow;
I'll believe whate'er thou swearest,
What thou'dst fain believe, I'll vow.
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Author of original: 
Heinrich Heine
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