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I have walk'd through wildernesses dreary,
And today my heart is weary;
Up to thee would I fly.
In that song of thine;
Joyous as Morning,
Happy, happy Liver!
Joy and jollity be with us both!
As merry a Brother, 'I on the earth will go plodding on, By myself, chearfully, till the day is dona.
* With how sad steps, O Moon thou climb'st the sky,
• From a sounet of Sir Philip Sydney.
The Post-boy drove with fierce career,
As if the wind blew many ways
At length I to the Boy callid out,
The Boy then smack'd his whip, and fast
Said I, alighting on the ground,
« My Cloak!” the word was last and first,