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i wonder where you live
these be
to what shall a woman liken her beloved
i love to steal awhile away
a flying word from here and there
i went up and down the streets
this is the song of youth
mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam
some of the hurts you have cured
but alas, just dreams
my true love from her pillow rose
all quiet along the potomac
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true

 



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