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At Last

Rating: 5.0

At last, when all the summer shine
That warmed life's early hours is past,
Your loving fingers seek for mine
And hold them close--at last--at last!
Not oft the robin comes to build
Its nest upon the leafless bough
By autumn robbed, by winter chilled,--
But you, dear heart, you love me now.

Though there are shadows on my brow

And furrows on my cheek, in truth,--
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7/22/2021 4:56:05 AM # 1.0.0.663