To Nicaretë
Oft would she gaze from out the lattice high,
Her cheeks with longing wet, and lonely cry
Till he came to her door.
But Cleophon's blue eyes with their bright fire
Have dried her tears and filled her heart's desire,
And now she weeps no more.
Her cheeks with longing wet, and lonely cry
Till he came to her door.
But Cleophon's blue eyes with their bright fire
Have dried her tears and filled her heart's desire,
And now she weeps no more.
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