TO - - |
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TO - -
1 The bowers whereat, in dreams, I see The wantonest singing birds Are lips - and all thy melody Of lip-begotten words - 2 Thine eyes, in Heaven of heart enshrin`d Then desolately fall, O! God! on my funereal mind Like starlight on a pall - 3 Thy heart - thy heart! - I wake and sigh, And sleep to dream till day Of truth that gold can never buy - Of the trifles that it may. |