| Fishmonger, The—oh, call him back! |
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| How many may be hurrying through |
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| Oh! flower-gazers, who have decked |
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| Can I be dreaming? 'Twas but yesterday |
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| A Thousand thoughts of tender vague regret |
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| A Snowy morning,—everywhere |
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| Without a word of warning, there |
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| Leaf whirls down, slackaday, A! |
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| Alas! the noon convolvulus |
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| Ah! yes, my passage through the world |
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