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I remember, I remember, |
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The house where I was born, |
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The little window where the sun |
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Came peeping in at morn; |
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He never came a wink too soon, |
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Nor brought too long a day, |
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But now, I often wish the night |
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Had borne my breath away!
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I remember, I remember, |
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The roses, red and white, |
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The violets, and the lily-cups, |
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Those flowers made of light! |
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The lilacs where the robin built, |
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And where my brother set |
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The laburnum on his birthday, - |
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The tree is living yet!
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I remember, I remember, |
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Where I was used to swing, |
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And thought the air must rush as fresh |
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To swallows on the wing; |
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My spirit flew in feathers then, |
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That is so heavy now, |
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And summer pools could hardly cool |
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The fever on my brow!
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I remember, I remember, |
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The fir trees dark and high; |
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I used to think their slender tops |
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Were close against the sky: |
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It was a childish ignorance, |
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But now 'tis little joy |
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To know I'm farther off from heaven |
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Than when I was a boy. |