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SONG
SONG
I bring my weariness to thee,
My bitter dreams I bring;
Love with a wounded wing,
And life consumed of memory,
I bring to thee.
My bitter dreams I bring;
Love with a wounded wing,
And life consumed of memory,
I bring to thee.
The haven of thy happy breast—
Of this my dreams are fain:
For all my weary pain,
In all the world there is no rest,
But on thy breast.
Of this my dreams are fain:
For all my weary pain,
In all the world there is no rest,
But on thy breast.
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