  HOW dreary are the crowded streets With not a soul abroad! How sunless is the sunny sky! No fire on hearth, no mirth at board! How long the nights, how slow the day! My love’s away! My love’s away! How gay the crowded city streets! How cheerily shines the sun! Dances the fire, and round the board From lip to lip the greetings run! No longer in the dumps I roam— My love’s come home! My love’s come home! |
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