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All this I was doing over a man |
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In loneliness going across the bare moor |
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And through the blind night in the pitch of the darkness |
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Lost from the high road |
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Through many ridged fields, down slopes that were soggy |
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Over stubble and furrow with stumble and sorrow |
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Through nine thorny thickets ruined old forts |
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To the brow of the mountain |
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And missing the bogs and their green habitation |
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Whose hateful companions circled around me |
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A fighter betrayed in the thick of the battle |
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A girl in a jail, a girl in a Jail |
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But worse than the fogs of all desolation |
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Were the spirits of evil circling around me |
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And my crossing and praying |
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My charming and rhyme of little avail |
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This took a long time but at last I looked up |
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And there were the stars |
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Like cherries they were in the orchard of night |
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All yellow and red, all shining and bright |
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The sparks of the bonfired for seven dear saints |
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The gems of the host and the harness of heaven |
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The pickets of embers whose orbits are long |
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And wind cannot take them, wind cannot take them |
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I stopped in my tracks, look you, I said |
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This is over and one, he has got to be told |
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God forgive me the telling, I'll travel no more |
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To the door of his dwelling I'll travel no more |
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Through any such goings nor blunt my good axe |
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On the face of the stone |