In the cascading moonlight,
I stumbled upon a four-leaf clover,
so I thought it must be right,
that my bad luck should now be over–

Pray tell, how could it not be just
that this grief be crushed to dust?

Still, I found, despite this blessing,
by fate I’m bound to keep on guessing,
forever surrounded by fortune’s testing,
so in the ground the clover stayed resting.

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