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And none is left to dry that tear,
To soothe thy mother's misery;
Thy deserts us here
And whither, whether shall we fly –
Wretch! – ha! He left a
To mitigate my aging.
May
Enough – our mournful joys, our cares
Well mingle in our pilgrimage;
When heart with heart its sorrows shares
Their bitterest sufferings soon assuage –
And I will watch thy infant years
And thou shall pass my sinking age.
Berquin
Identifier: | JB/110/203/001"JB/" can not be assigned to a declared number type with value 110. |
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110 |
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203 |
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001 |
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collectanea |
2 |
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recto |
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sir john bowring |
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36193 |
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