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IV.
WILLOW-SONG.
Willow! in thy breezy moan,
I can hear a deeper tone;
Thro' thy leaves come whispering low
Faint sweet sounds of long ago.
Willow, sighing Willow!
Many a mournful tale of old
Heart-sick love to thee hath told,
Gathering from thy golden bough
Leaves to cool his burning brow.
Willow, sighing Willow!
