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■ The oak
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-10-19 | [This text should be read in romana] | Submited by Ionescu Bogdan
I dreamt a dream! What can it mean?
And that I was a maiden Queen Guarded by an Angel mild: Witless woe was ne'er beguiled! And I wept both night and day, And he wiped my tears away; And I wept both day and night, And hid from him my heart's delight. So he took his wings, and fled; Then the morn blushed rosy red. I dried my tears, and armed my fears With ten-thousand shields and spears. Soon my Angel came again; I was armed, he came in vain; For the time of youth was fled, And grey hairs were on my head.
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