Rachel

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And ever and anon the wolf would steal The children and devour, but now and then, Her own brood lost or dead, lent her fierce teat To human sucklings; and the children, housed In her foul den, there at their meat would growl, And mock their foster mother on four feet, Till, straightened, they grew up to wolf-like men, Worse than the wolves.
The Complete Works: Alfred, Lord Tennyson
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