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We will rush ever on without fear;
Let the goal be far, the flight be fleet!
For we carry the Heavens with us, dear,Has set the master player here,
In the fair temple that he planned
Not for himself. To us most dearTo you I'd fly, my dear!
But thoughts like these are idle things,
And I stay here.One hope is too like despair
For prudence to smother;
And pity from thee more dear-- "O it is I, my mistress dear,
Your little dog , who still lives near,But yesternight declare
That he had found a text to prove
That only God, my dear,I've no heart to hear
But just something you make up,
O my mother dear.--There is no mercy in the shifting year,
No beauty wraps me tenderly about.
I turn to little words- so you, my dear,Fish too dear,
None must be bought,
For us that are here:One hope is too like despair
For prudence to smother,
And pity from thee more dearNo--I am not sleepy, dear--
Do not go: sit by me hereAnd sweet it was and very clear
To be about a little thing
That only few hold dear.But is it usual, dear,
To hire a man, and fill a van
By way of souvenir?Gold pays the worth of all things here
But not of love; -- that gem's too dearRun along, and never fear,
I'll take care of baby dear:Come, sisters, weep!-our Baron dear,
Alas! has run away.
If always we had kept him hereAh, woe is me, my mother dear!
A man of strife ye've born me:
For sair contention I maun bear;You better mind yer parunts, an' yer teachurs fond an' dear,
An' churish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear,Boys and girls that held her dear,
Do your weeping now;
All you loved of her lies here.Never give away a tear,
Never toss a pine;
Should you heed my words, my dear,