| He looked at me with eyes I thought |
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| Spring Morning |
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| Oh on my breast in days hereafter |
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| Now dreary dawns the eastern light |
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| They shall have breath that never were |
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| When the eye of day is shut |
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| Oh turn not in from marching |
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| When first my way to fair I took |
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| When summer's end is nighing |
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| The Rainy Pleiads wester |
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