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‹‹‹ prev (71) Page 65Page 65Donald and Flora

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'^^ Loud howls the nortliern blast,
" Bleak is the dreary waste ;—
'' Haste then, O Donald, haste,
" Haste to thy Flora.
" Twice twelve long months are o'er,
" Since on a foreign shore
" You promised to fight no more,
" But meet me in Mora."
^ Where now is Donald dear ?'
(Maids cry with taunting sneer ;)
' Say, is he still sincere
' To his lov'd Flora?' —
'* Parents upbraid my moan ;
*' Each heart is turn'd to stone ;
*' Ah, Flora ! thou'rt now alone^
" And friendless in Mora!
*' Come then, O come away !
*■' Donald! no longer stay !
^' Where can my rover stray
'' From his lov'd Flora ?
'' Ah ! sure he ne'er cou'd be
" False to his vows and me !
*' Heavens ! is't not yonder he,
^' Comes bounding o'er Mora ?"
' Never, O wretched fair V
(Sigh'd the sad messenger,)

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