| Of course the nightingale stays not |
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| The Year has closed while still I wear |
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| The Cuckoo,—I will wait till it sings, if it sing not |
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| Together with one blossom more |
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| The Cherry-flow'rs! for them alone |
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| Fast fall the silv'ry dews, albeit not yet |
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| it mildens, as the plum |
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| Awake! awake! I'll make of thee |
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| Lines to a Friend |
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| Nothing remaineth; for the snow |
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