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And like the moon, with borrowed ray,
In thy light only shine;
Feel every cloud that dims thy way,
And share each joy of thine.
In thy light only shine;
Feel every cloud that dims thy way,
And share each joy of thine.
Yes, dearest! now I feel to be
Thine own in heart and hand,
And cheerfully I leave for thee
My home and native land.
I take thy lot,—in joy or pain,
One wish one prayer is mine,
That life nor death may break the chain
Which binds my soul to thine.
Thine own in heart and hand,
And cheerfully I leave for thee
My home and native land.
I take thy lot,—in joy or pain,
One wish one prayer is mine,
That life nor death may break the chain
Which binds my soul to thine.
E.
June, 1837.