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as i lie roofed in, screened in
the old west, the old time
mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam
i cannot always feel his greatness
are you awake?
i love to steal awhile away
now while my lips are living
why are the things that have no death
love me at last, or if you will not
still her gray rocks tower above the sea
let us pity those who are better off than we are
i love my life, but not too well
among the mountains i wandered

 



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