| My Love she is a lowly but sweet flower |
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| Sidney, thou star of beaming chivalry |
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| And do I then behold again the scene |
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| Lo! yonder barks that from the calm bay glide |
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| Moonlight |
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| Similes |
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| Ah, what is life! a dream within a dream |
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| Wordsworth, of all men who have graced our age |
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| 'Tis not for thee, my Sister, that I grieve |
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| As is the Sun essential unto spring |
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