| The Pearl within the shell concealed |
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| When thou sleepest, lulled in night |
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| 'Tis eve; how that rich sunlight streameth through |
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| I scarce would let that restless eye |
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| Now fall the last drops of the shower |
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| The Ante-room is hushed and still |
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| Why should we ever mourn as those |
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| No harp on earth can breathe a tone |
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| Speak of the North! |
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| We wove a web in childhood |
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