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she found me roots of relish sweet
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and honey wild, and manna dew
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and sure in language strange she said I love thee true
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she took me to her elfin grot
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and there she wept, and sigh d full sore
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and there I shut her wild wild eyes with kisses four
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and there she lulled me asleep
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and there I dream d, ah! Woe betide!
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The latest dream I ever dreamed
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on the cold hill side
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Abigail?
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Here it is. Mr. Brown said to give it to you tomorrow,