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  • Winter evening
    Has the gale s insistent prodding Made your drowsing senses numb Are you lulled to gentle nodding By the whirling spindle s hum Let us drink for grief let s drown it Comrade of my wretched youth Where s the jar Pour out and down it Wine will make us less uncouth Sing me of the tomtit hatching Safe beyond the ocean blue Sing about the maiden fetching Water at

    Original URL path: (2016-04-29)
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