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His candy in his pocket lodged,
His verses to his desk returned,
Returning freight he vainly dodged
Yet still his love the higher burned.

No more within the lamp's warm glare
His charms of rosy splendor bloom,
He walks alone in open air
Beneath the rising moon.

His faithful friend whose willing ear
Oft heard his whispered confidence
Is airing all his secrets dear
Across the orchard fence.

His pillow swims in hopeless tears
And when his weary track
Leads past some serious girls, he hears
A giggle at his back.

But still with pluck to be admired
He hovers sweetly 'round
Though his eye once with joy inspired
Now rests upon the ground.

And still his bosom-friend repeats
His latest agonies
And still his widely lavished sweets
Come back to bless his eyes.

O sad, sad story to relate!
Ye damsels all give ear,
And ye who hope to share his fate
The needful moral hear;

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