_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Now of my threescore years and ten, Twenty will not come again, And take from seventy springs a score, It leaves me only fifty more. And since to look at things in bloom Fifty springs are little room, About the woodlands I will go To see the cherry hung with snow. -A. E. Housman
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
,-^-. !oYo! /./=\.\______ ## )\/\ ||-----w|| || ||
tac abc.txt