  YOU come to me—you take my hand, You try to make me see Things should become as they once were, ’Twixt you and me. I listen to each word, you say, I mark well ev’ry tone, Only to find—you plead in vain,— There’s something gone. Something gone—that cannot come back again, Tho’ most entreatingly you pray. Yet, not mine the fault,—but yours alone, It went away. |
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