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THE BLIND GIRL.

In rippling cadence to the sea.

In sunny meadows oft I hear

The bobolink's hilarious song

Incessant all the day livelong,

In June (the longest of the year),

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And wonder if his summer coat

Is gayer than his joyous note,

So grand he doth appear.

At twilight vesper hymns arise

From many a hidden hermit's throat;

Away, up, up, they seem to float,

Far, far above the skies.

I cannot feel the fleecy cloud,

The lightning's flash, the pale moonbeams;

To me, O, how mysterious seems

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