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To the north and east of Yew, 'Neath Britannian skies of blue, Amidst twin moonlight and morning dew, And trees of every emerald hue, Lies the town of Deepwater. In this town of quiet flair, Built on Justice, true and fair, Dwell those with hearts both fine and rare, If ye long for those who care, Then fill yer soul in Deepwater. Lilting songs oft fill the bay, Sung by water nymphs and fae, To guide the weary on their way, And comfort those who've come to stay, Upon the shores of Deepwater. Menfolk clad in fine attire, Ladies lit by beauty's fire. Calls of "Welcome Lady...Sire!" Issue from the local cryer, In the town of Deepwater. In this town of high romance, Beware that shy, amorous glance, Lest yer feet do yearn to dance. If 'tis love ye seek perchance, Then bring yer heart to Deepwater. Saints and scoundrels both agree, 'Tis the very place to be, This lovely village by the sea, This port of grand simplicity, This humble town of Deepwater. If yer soul is young and free, And filled with warmth and peace and glee, Do, my friend, please come and see, These folk are sure to welcome thee, To the town of Deepwater. - Percy Bandello the Bard

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