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Well, my king, in silence sad |
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trip we after what we read |
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We the globe can compass soon |
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swifter than the wandering moon |
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I look to like, |
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if looking liking prays |
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I gather thorns, |
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seek nights to happy days |
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On life's vast ocean do we sail |
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I pity myself, cause passion is the gale |
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Tears augmenting the fresh morning-dew |
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I know my grievance or be much denied |
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Mistempered sorrow, fear me not ! |
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You dreamt a dream tonight and so did I |
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And since You wove dreams of joy and fear |
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which made me terrible and dear |
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But I arose and saw the dawn |
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when light rode high and dew was gone |