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‹‹‹ prev (31) Page 23Page 23Oh never thou'lt meet me again

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As the sound of the viol, that dies on the blast,
As the shade of the dial, thy spirit has pass’d;
The breezes blow round me, but give back no strain,
The shade on the dial returns not again .
Where roses enshrined thee, in bright trellised shade,
Still hoping to find thee, how oft have I strayed:
Thy desolate dwelling I traverse in vain,
The stillness has whispered, thou’lt ne’er come again!
I still haste to meet thee, when footsteps I hear.
And start, when, to greet me, thou dost not appear;
Then fresh o’er my spirit steals mem’ry of pain,
For never, oh never, thou’lt meet me again i

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