| Out of the turbid pool of Night |
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| A Certain thought hath followed me |
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| You never see a bird alone |
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| In Ancient Greece |
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| To-morrow will be another day |
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| I follow Song |
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| I thought to cull thee roses |
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| We are so merry, contented, and gay |
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| My Muse is like a woman; she |
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| Morning Song |
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