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Rose
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Proem
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Poor Snail, That Toilest At My Weary Feet
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Our Life Is Like A Forest, Where The Sun
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Oh, Holy Sabbath Morn Thrice Blessed Day
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Oh, That I Were The Spirit Of These Wilds
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Night and Morning
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My Footsteps Press where Centuries Ago
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My Prayer
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My Soul Goes Out to Meet her and my Heart
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