| The Organist |
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| Lotos Eating |
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| My Thrush |
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| Ere I had time to wonder, lo! there enter |
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| I pass into my ancestral halls, and meet |
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| Blow, swift south wind, from those green hills of Surrey |
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| For the two cavaliers their rapiers crossed |
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| Ay, she was once the guardian of my nursery |
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| Thither I'll go at midnight, if the sexton |
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| London should surely have its due poetic |
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