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FALL OF DEW

Sweet mortal boy who walks with me
Nearer and nearer the sleepy sea

Wherein we shall be separate
Drowning singly—it is late;

Now while my mind is clear and airy
I want to hurry, hurry, carry

All I may ever keep with me
Before it vanishes, to the sea;

Toward the salty sea I take
Dew from a little inland lake;

A lake that lay on a leaf, where
You wrung water from the air;

The sea has nothing to say to this;
I will dilute her salt with bliss;

However silent, it has been.
I am sleepy and serene.

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