| http://www.w3.org/ns/prov#value | - Lyda's SongIf e'er again I see your face 'neath skies of cloud or starThe angels in their heav'nly grace would all stand off afarAnd raise a cry in strains divine, for never shall they seeAgain such beauty as is thine in all the earth and seaThe mountains in their lofty pride, the fields of golden grainThe rivers in their rushing stride cannot our love containNor can the wide expanse on high or de
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