| 'Tis Hallowe'en and shut the book of parting |
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| So but it were vouchsafed me To win unto thy street |
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| Last night, with the torrent of tears, The passage of sleep I waylaid |
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| Yon friend, by whom our dwelling A fay's abiding-place was |
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| Set the hand within that loveling's Tress of double ply one cannot |
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| What is it that this drunkenness On me of mine hath brought? |
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| Our Book, for this many a year, In pawn for the vinejuice red is |
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| Yon meddler, at me who for love And toping outcry maketh |
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| Unto us the bird of Fortune Yet its way belike shall make |
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| Lo, at dawning wakeful Fortune To my bed hath come |
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