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 Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are : I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne, and yet must bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My...  Eclectic Magazine, and Monthly Edition of the Living Age - Página 84 editado por - 1854 Visualização completa -
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