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SONGS OF THE AFFECTIONS.
Some, for the stormy play
And joy of strife;
And some, to fling away
A weary life;—
But thou, pale sleeper, thou,
With the slight frame,
And the rich locks, whose glow
Death cannot tame;
Only one thought, one power,
Thee could have led,
So, through the tempest's hour,
To lift thy head!
Only the true, the strong,
The love, whose trust
Woman's deep soul too long
Pours on the dust!
