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His hand in hers, she walks along And leads him by the river’s brink; She stays to catch the water’s song, Closing her eyes with him to think. His ear, more watchful than her own, Had caught the ocean’s distant moan.
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His hand in hers, she walks along And leads him by the river’s brink; She stays to catch the water’s song, Closing her eyes with him to think. His ear, more watchful than her own, Had caught the ocean’s distant moan.
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