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(147) next ››› Page 135Page 135I will think of thee yet

(146) Page 134 -
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one more true to thee!
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Farewell! farewell! the white sails swell,
The good ship swiftly glides;
It rises o'er the foaming surge,
And ploughs the adverse tides :
The winds may blow, the billows roll
Across the foaming sea,
And farther every wind and wave
Shall bear me still from thee .
Farewell! farewell! the white sails swell
Beside another strand,
Far, far from thee, and all thats thine _
My own, my native land!
Yet though I seek another home.
Across the pathless sea,
The sigh will heave, the tear will flow,
Mv native land for thee i

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