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SONG OF THE SPANISH WANDERER.
215
O sunshine and song! they are lying far
By the streams that look to the western star;
My heart is fainting to hear once more
The water-voices of that sweet shore.
Many were they that have died for thee,
And brave, my Spain! though thou art not free,
Yet I call them blest—they have rent their chain,
They sleep in thy valleys—my sunny Spain!
