  I SAW her walking in the rain, And sweetly drew she nigh; And then she crossed the hills again To bid the day good-by. “Good-by! good-by! The world is dim as sorrow; But close beside the morning sky I’ll say a glad Good-morrow!” O dweller in the darling wood, When near to death I lie, Come from your leafy solitude, And bid my soul good-by. Good-by! good-by! The world is dim as sorrow; But close beside the morning sky O say a glad Good-morrow! |
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