In meditation at my windowsill,
While, like the twinkling stars in heaven’s dome, Come one by one sweet memories of home. And wouldst thou ask me where my fancy roves To reproduce the happy scenes it loves, Where hope and memory together dwell And paint the pictured beauties that I tell?
While, like the twinkling stars in heaven’s dome, Come one by one sweet memories of home. And wouldst thou ask me where my fancy roves To reproduce the happy scenes it loves, Where hope and memory together dwell And paint the pictured beauties that I tell?
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