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The breezes went steadily through the tall pines
The chill November day was done

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The dawn went up the sky
The despot's heel is on thy shore
The dews of summer night did fall
The dule 's i' this bonnet o' mine

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The glories of our birth and state

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The groves of Blarney, they look so charming

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The guests are come, all silent they have waited

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There's a grim one-horse hearse in a jolly round trot

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The scene was more beautiful far to the eye
The stream that hurries by your fixed shore

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"T is midnight's holy hour,-and silence now

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"T was a jolly old pedagogue, long ago

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"T was in heaven pronounced, and 't was muttered
"T was the night before Christmas, when all through
"T was on the night of Michaelmas

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"T was when the wan leaf frae the birk tree wus fa'in'

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Two worlds there are. To one our eyes we strain
Two Yankee wags, one summer day

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Wee Willie Winkie rins through the town

We hail this morn

We meet 'neath the sounding rafter

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When a' ither bairnies are hushed to their hame

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When another life is added

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Whence come those shrieks so wild and shrill
When shall we three meet again?

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When the humid shadows hover over all the
When the lessons and tasks are all ended
When the sheep are in the fauld, and a' the kye
Where the rocks are gray, and the shore is steep.
Who fears to speak of Ninety-Eight?

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"You have heard," said a youth to his sweetheart,

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