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Roses and butterflies snared on a fan, / All that is left of a summer gone by; …
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The Spacious Noon enfolds me with its peace— / The affluent Midsummer wraps me round— …
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So love is dead that has been quick so long! / Close, then, his eyes, and bear him to his rest, …
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Come hither and behold this lady’s face, / Who lies asleep, as if strong Death had kissed …
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Pallid with too much longing, / White with passion and prayer, …
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As the wind at play with a spark / Of fire that glows through the night, …
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Round among the quiet graves, / When the sun was low, …
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How shall we know it is the last good-by? / The skies will not be darkened in that hour, …
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She sees her image in the glass,— / How fair a thing to gaze upon! …
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Bend low, O dusky Night, / And give my spirit rest. …
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We lay us down to sleep, / And leave to God the rest: …
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Were but my spirit loosed upon the air,— / By some High Power who could Life’s chains unbind, …