| Too lightly woven must the garments be |
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| Behold the water for the tea |
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| Behold the wild-geese wending homeward |
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| There, by the crescent moon, the shark |
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| What then? what are his million bales? |
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| Secret Love |
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| No man so callous but he heaves a sigh |
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| Fall'n flow'r returning to the branch |
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| Oh! flowery moor, stretching athwart |
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| The Morning hoar-frost, and Mount Fuji |
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