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Oh! would that the sunshine could fall on my grave,
That the wild flower and willow could over it wave;
Oh! would that the daisies grew over my sleep,
That the tears of the morning could over me weep.
Thou art pale ’mid the dreams, I shall trouble no more,
The sorrow that kept me from slumber is o’er:
To the depths of the ocean in peace I depart,
For I still have a grave greener far in thy heart!
