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FAR, FAR AT SEA.
'Twas night when the bell had toll'd twelve,And poor Susan was laid on her pillow,In her ear whisper'd some fleeting elve—Your love now lies lost on a billow,Far, far at sea.
All was dark, when she woke out of breath,Not an object her fears could discover;All was still as the silence of death,Save Fancy, which painted her lever,Far, far at sea.
So she whisper'd a prayer—clos'd her eyes,But the phantom still haunted her pillow,While in terror she echo'd his cries,As struggling he sank in a billow,Far, far at sea.
ERE AROUND THE HUGE OAK.
Ere around the huge oak that o'ershadows yon mill,The fond ivy had dar'd to entwine;Ere the church was a ruin that nods on the hill,Ere a rook built his nest on the pine,