| http://www.w3.org/ns/prov#value | - Yes, while thou art by I think of nought but thee,'Tis only when thou art not nigh Remembrance tortures me.But such a lofty soul to find, And such a heart as thine,In such a glorious form enshrined And still to call thee mine --Would be for earth too great a bliss,Without a taint of woe like this, Then why should I repine?
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