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Once more, enchanting maid, adieu !
. Oft shall I weep to think of you ; But here I will not, cannot stay.
The sweet expression of that face,
I dare not turn to trace.
Yet give me, give me, ere I go,
-Say, when, to kindle soft delight,
O say—but no, it must not be.
The Sailor sighs as sinks his native shore,