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And even then—who knows?—we'll meet again,
Nor the celestial wine-cup cease to drain,
And in some laughter-loving heaven on high
Our little women to our bosoms strain.
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And even then—who knows?—we'll meet again,
Nor the celestial wine-cup cease to drain,
And in some laughter-loving heaven on high
Our little women to our bosoms strain.
30