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149 She went as quiet as the Dew From an Accustomed flower. Not like the Dew, did she return At the Accustomed hour! She dropt as softly as a star From out my summer's Eve— Less skillful than Le Verriere It's sorer to believe!
Added: 19 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 4:00 PM | Viewed: 7392 times
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