< Page:Poems (IA poemstennalfr00tennrich).pdf
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POEMS.
Poured divine solace, or the rise
Of moonlight from the margin gleamed,
Volcano-like, afar, and streamed
On her white arm, and heavenward eyes.
Not all alone she made her moan,
Yet ever sang she, night and morn,
"Madonna, lo! I am all alone,
Love-forgotten and love-forlorn.”
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