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Rating: 2.6

How dear to me the twilight hour!
It breathes, it speaks of pleasures past;
When Laura sought this humble bower,
And o'er it courtly splendours cast.

Fond fancy's friend, dim twilight, hail!
Thou canst the absent nymph restore;
And as around thy shadows sail,
They bring the form I still adore.

Again her pensive smile I view,
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M Asim Nehal 25 January 2016

Nicely thought and written. And in rememberance the pleasure is to recall the past with joy n happpiness.

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Susan Williams 25 January 2016

The beginning two lines spoke to me the clearest- twilight seems to be the time to sit at the window and watch the darkness overtake the day and remember the past and grieve over people lost- - - - - - - How dear to me the twilight hour! It breathes, it speaks of pleasures past;

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Manonton Dalan 25 January 2016

I keep remembrance so I won't forget

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Pranab K Chakraborty 25 January 2016

Yet, no; ah, no! forget, forget My ardent love, my faith, and me; Remember not we ever met; I would not cause one pang to thee.............So intense....so....so.....Beautiful piece of love and cry, agony and ecstasy. Nice indeed.

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Ratnakar Mandlik 25 January 2016

Memoirs of the love and loved one are captivating. Thanks for sharing.

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Edward Kofi Louis 25 January 2016

True love is very dear to the heart! Remembrance. Thanks for sharing.

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