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Thus it | is our | daughters | leave us, Those we | love and | those who | love us! Just when | they have | learned to | help us, When wS are | old and | lean up | on them, Comes a youth with flaunting feathers, With a flute of reeds, a stranger Wanders piping through the village. Beckons to the fairest maiden, And she follows where he leads her, Leaving all things for the stranger !
Though in distant lands we sigh, Parched beneath a hostile sky ; Though the deep between us rolls, Friendship shall unite our souls; Still in fancy' rich domain Oft shall we three meet again.
Wha will be a traitor knave ? Wha will fill a coward's grave ? \\. a sae base as be a slave ? Traitor 1 coward ! turn and flee !
The following quatrains exhibit the tour-foot line in both its complete and truncated forms; this is the 8,7 measure of our hymns.
Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time.