Strange: I sit here, and write my painful prose |
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Wooing! Ah me, amid the pleasant woods |
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Lofty and sombre and oak-wainscoated |
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Exquisite clear the sunset time. I witness |
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A Mighty Pyrenean wolf-hound lies |
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Not with this joyous time must I delay |
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Ere I had time to wonder, lo! there enter |
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I pass into my ancestral halls, and meet |
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Blow, swift south wind, from those green hills of Surrey |
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For the two cavaliers their rapiers crossed |
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