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The Song Book |
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CLXIII
FROM THEE ELIZA |
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Farewell, farewell, Eliza dear,
The maid that I adore ! A boding voice is in my ear,
We part to meet no more \ But the last throb that leaves my heart,
While death stands victor by, That throb, Eliza, is thy part,
And thine that latest sigh! |
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Words by Burns. Tune Giideroy. |
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