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In May my heart was breaking-
  Oh, wide the wound, and deep!
And bitter it beat at waking,
  And sore it split in sleep.

And when it came November,
  I sought my heart, and sighed,
"Poor thing, do you remember?"
  "What heart was that?" it cried.

Added: 25 Nov 2001 | Last Read: 5 Sep 2026 1:27 PM | Viewed: 10520 times

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