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THESE thoughts, while through my brain they passed, were mine;
Pássing through thý brain, reader, they are thine;
Use them as best thou mayst; who I am, thee
Concerns as little, as who thou art, me.

COME, Máry with the eyes so blue,
Come, Máry with the heart so true,
Come and let 's roam a while together
In the bright, warm, sunshiny weather,
Along the lane, beneath the trees,
In the field or garden, where you please,
For it 's not about the walk I care,
Bút to be with you anywhere.

If you don't like to walk, we 'll sit
In the jéssamine bower and while you knit,
Or dráw, or work in filligree,
1, on a stool beside your knee,
Will tell you tales, read poetry,
Or lílt to my guitár an air,
Not that guitár or book 's my care,
Bút to be with you anywhere.

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