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MELANCHOLETTA.
With saddest music all day long
She soothed her secret sorrow:
At night she sighed. "I fear 'twas wrong
Such cheerful words to borrow;
Dearest, a sweeter, sadder song
I'll sing to thee to-morrow."
I thanked her, but I could not say
That I was glad to hear it:
I left the house at break of day,
And did not venture near it
Till time, I hoped, had worn away
Her grief, for nought could cheer it!
