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WELSH MELODIES.
Sweet land, whence memory ne'er hath parted!
To thee on sleep's light wing I fly;
But happier, could the weary-hearted,
Look on his own blue hills, and die!
Page:Poetical Remains.pdf/328
Sweet land, whence memory ne'er hath parted!
To thee on sleep's light wing I fly;
But happier, could the weary-hearted,
Look on his own blue hills, and die!