In the flax that blooms but for a day,

A hundred years would pass

Beauty in enchanted slumber lay  

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Amidst the flowers Beauty slept

Upon her silver quilt

Hoping to see true love’s promise kept

Before the blooms should wilt

For those who’d fight with all their heart

‘til Beauty is awoken:

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“Be deft of hand and strong of will

Until the spell is broken!”