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There, like some way-worn palmer.
I'll sit me down and weep.
I'll note upon the billows
Her lessening sail of snow,
And waft across the waters—
Go, fleeting fair one, go!'
He clambered to the chapel
That toppled o'er the deep—
There, like a way-worn palmer,
He laid him down to weep:
And still I heard his wailing
Upon the strand below—
'Go o'er the inconstant waters,
Go, faithless woman, go!'
