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The wind is not for seeing,
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the beautiful animal appeared in our path:
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I say I want to save the world but really
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Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white,
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O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
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Oh, put away your good words
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O how the operatic impulse wavers!
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I had the idea — the hope
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long thought and kind of
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When the eyes and lips are touched with honey