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The Meditation of the Old Fisherman
| You waves, though you dance by my feet like children at play, | | Though you glow and you glance, though
you purr and you dart; | | In the Junes that were warmer than these are, the waves were more gay, | | When
I was a boy with never a crack in my heart. | | | | | | The herring are not in the tides as they were of old; | | My
sorrow! for many a creak gave the creel in the cart | | That carried the take to Sligo town to be sold, | | When
I was a boy with never a crack in my heart. | | | | | | And ah, you proud maiden, you are not so fair when his
oar | | Is heard on the water, as they were, the proud and apart, | | Who paced in the eve by the nets on the
pebbly shore, | | When I was a boy with never a crack in my heart. |
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By PanEris
using Melati.
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