Black: Be7
A tempting sweet morsel now dangles before us.
'Tis hard to quiet the clamoring chorus
That beckons for blows to be dealt to the Taurus.
But poison pure glistens from every pore.
The death of this Pawn would, yes, even the score
But how quickly would tilt the grim fortunes of War.
And so we pass by this delectable treat.
Mistakes of the past we wish not to repeat,
So our brave ebon Bishop secures a retreat.
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