The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day Is crept into the bosom of the sea.

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Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow.

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Freedom, high-day! high-day, freedom! freedom, high-day, freedom!

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But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit,...

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It is not enough to help the feeble up, but to support him after.

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