| The Philosopher |
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| All day I've toiled, but not with pain |
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| That wind, I used to hear it swelling |
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| The Night of storms has passed |
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| Far, far away is mirth withdrawn |
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| Not a vapour had stained the breezeless blue |
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| The Death Of A.G.A |
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| To a Wreath of Snow |
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| I see around me tombstones grey |
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| I would have touched the heavenly key |
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