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My True-Love.

SPARKLING eyes and laughing lips,

A wealth of golden hair,

A form that bends and bows and dips,

Fairest among the fair.

A shining star, with all its rays

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Descending straight on me:

This was the dream in boyhood's days

Of what my love should be.

A stately maiden, tall and fair,

A brow both broad and low,

A piercing eye and jet-black hair,

A neck as white as snow,

A mouth that spoke of dignity,

A beauty to be feared:

This image of divinity

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