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come from my own country far into this foreign land, Of all I own I take alone My sweet lute in my hand. Oh! who will thank me for my song, Reward my simple lay? Like lover's sighs it still shall rise To greet thee day by day. I sing of blooming flowers Made sweet by sun and rain; Of all the bliss of love's first kiss, And parting's cruel pain. The Violet Fairy Book by Andrew Lang  Grand Large
Concerto op.3 n°9 |
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