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The Harp of Aengus

        Edain came out of Midhirs hill, and lay

        Beside young Aengus in ower of glass,

        ime is drowned in odour-laden winds

        And Druid moons, and murmuring of boughs,

        And sleepy boughs, and boughs where apples made

        Of opal and rue

        Arings,

        S    of his long hair,

        Because her hands had been made wild by love.

        o a fly,

        h Druid apple-wood

        t s know ;

        And from t ched over none

        But faithful lovers.
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