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DRIFTING.

The waves respond in cadence low.

And as we rest, our dreamful eyes

Shall gaze upon the distant view.

The sloping hills,-the odds arrayed

By autumn's hand in rainbow hue.

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So ship the noisy, splashing oars,

Recline at ease upon the thwarts.

While drifts our bark. We too shall drift

Upon the current of our thoughts. [Record.

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