Níl tú logáilte isteach, ach tá fáilte romhat tras-scríobh a dhéanamh go hanaithnid. Sa chás seo, léireofar do sheoladh IP ar mhaithe le rialú cáilíochta.
On Seeing a white rose on a Lady's Breast It was a fragrant tender flower that in the snowy bosom lay Of me fair maid whose charms have power To wile a cynic's heart away And envied I that blossom gay Its pillow on sweet Mary's breast Where evermore I'd lain delay And be beloved, remembered best.
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Má chliceálann tú ar an gcnaipe sábhála, glacann tú leis go mbeidh do shaothar ar fáil faoi cheadúnas
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agus gur leor nasc chuig dúchas.ie mar aitreabúideacht.