The rose looks out in the valley, And thither will I go,— To the rosy vale, where the nightingale Sings his song of woe....
How fair the maiden! what can be So fair, so beautiful, as she? Ask the mariner who sails...
If thou art sleeping, maiden, Awake and open thy door, 'T is the break of day, and we must away, O'er meadow, and mount, and moor....
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8/28/2026 7:07:09 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3