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10

Parting

The light of the morn is breaking,
Across the widening sea-
But the glory is dimmed with sadness,
Sweet love, when I think of thee.

Would it were dark and dreary,
And a mist upon the brine,
And I were standing [[strikethrough]] beside [[strikethrough]] near thee,
With thy dear hand [[strikethrough]] fast [[strikethrough]] in mine!
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