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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! [[strikethrough]] [[right margin]] 36 [[right margin]]