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THE NEST
GLAD is the grove with light,
And the glen is song-caressed,
But longing comes ere night
For the one, dear nest!
Far fields may seem more fair,
And distant hills more blue,—
Still claims that nest my care
In the dawn—in the dew;
For though the wild may woo
My wing to many a quest,
Sweet in the dawn and the dew
Are home and rest!
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