| Be still, my soul, be still; the arms you bear are brittle |
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| Reveille - |
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| With rue my heart is laden |
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| Farewell to barn and stack and tree |
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| Terence, this is stupid stuff |
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| When I watch the living meet |
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| I hoed and trenched and weeded |
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| When I was one-and-twenty |
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| Oh, when I was in love with you |
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| To an Athlete Dying Young - |
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