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■ The oak
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I shall forever love the one
Who made my soul burn as the sun, Who made my heart a flaming torch That I should use when on the search For her sweet fire. In return My eyes for her shall always burn. And I shall build my own dear pyre From all the moments I desire Her face she’d lean to me and smile. From all these I shall make a pyle And let it burn at night ’neath stars. I shall not have the thing that mars The beauty of my sweetest dream Destroy the light of what may seem A whim to some. But not to me! To me she means more than the life Of sorrow, bitterness and strife I have been living all this time. To let her down would be a crime And I shall always in her find The tender love that in moonlight Has been so oft my soft delight.
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