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Sunday up the River

Written by: James Thomson | Biography
 | Quotes (9) |
 MY love o'er the water bends dreaming; 
 It glideth and glideth away: 
She sees there her own beauty, gleaming 
 Through shadow and ripple and spray. 

O tell her, thou murmuring river, 
 As past her your light wavelets roll, 
How steadfast that image for ever 
 Shines pure in pure depths of my soul.



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