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never in all my life
if i should die, think only this of me
they threw a stone, you threw a stone
against the green flame of the hawthorn-tree
see, from this counterfeit of him
i am fevered
wheel me down by the meadow
all those treasures that lie
let us pity those who are better off than we are
though love repine, and reason chafe
under dusky laurel leaf

 



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