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A SONG
WITH you all thoughts and dreams are drowned In music's rivulet of sound. And when the fount of tears is quickened Sorrow is crowned for rapture found.
Silent, alone, how oft I thread Our hours together quickly sped; Ah! for your hand, when I recapture The thoughts that fled, the words unsaid.
When shall it be ourselves shall peer, Readable out of our eyes and clear; Haply when afterwards we are severed No doubt comes near, nor sudden fear.
Not till our hearts shall cease to bring Fresh love like water from the spring. Sweet, may your dreams like summer swallows Ever take wing in your eyes and sing.