THE TRAVELER

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The Moon’s a devil-jester
Who makes himself too free.
The rascal is not always
Where he appears to be:—
Sometimes he is in my heart—
Sometimes in the sea.
Then tides are in my heart,
And tides are in the sea.
O traveler! abiding not
Where he pretends to be!

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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