Some mythic memory;
Fostered by the fondest dreams
My heart designed for thee,
Then days would come
When that which was
The air that let me breathe -
The balm that cooled my fevered brow
And calmed a mind that seethed,
Would flow into my breast again
And soothe my tender heart,
Then those that were by madness rent
Would not so cruelly part,
For what I dreamed
Was meant to be;
A simple, blessèd purity.
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