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Bring me wine, but wine which never grew / In the belly of the grape, …
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If the red slayer think he slays, / Or if the slain think he is slain, …
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The sun set, but set not his hope: / Stars rose; his faith was earlier up: …
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By the rude bridge that arched the flood, / Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled, …
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Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days, / Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes, …
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Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clown / Of thee from the hill-top looking down; …
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Hast thou named all the birds without a gun? / Loved the wood-rose, and left it on its stalk? …
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Long i followed happy guides, / I could never reach their sides; …
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“the heart OF ALL THE SCENE” / ’T WAS one of the charmëd days …
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Give all to love; / Obey thy heart; …
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April 19, 1836 / BY the rude bridge that arched the flood, …
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It is time to be old, / To take in sail: …
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Our eyeless bark sails free, / Though with boom and spar …
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Burly, dozing humble-bee, / Where thou art is clime for me. …
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I like a church; I like a cowl; / I love a prophet of the soul; …
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In may, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes, / I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods, …
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BEHOLD the Sea, / The opaline, the plentiful and strong, …
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Announced by all the trumpets of the sky, / Arrives the snow, and, driving o’er the fields, …
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I hung my verses in the wind, / Time and tide their faults may find. …
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The south-wind brings / Life, sunshine, and desire, …
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Burly, dozing humblebee! / Where thou art is clime for me; …
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It fell in the ancient periods / Which the brooding soul surveys, …
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All day the waves assailed the rock, / I heard no church-bell chime; …