A Quarter of an hour had scarcely elapsed before a sweet yet |
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The Orphans |
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I obey your gentle call ye |
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The Moon dawned slow on the dusky gloaming |
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Morning |
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Light wings of Zephyr oppressed with perfume |
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Why should we ever mourn as those |
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No harp on earth can breathe a tone |
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Speak of the North! |
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We wove a web in childhood |
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