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The days are all such heavy days

When I am far from thee -

I wonder how the bird can sing,

Or search the blue with joyous wing

Or love his liberty

When I am far from thee.

O Love, could I but take the hours

That once I spent with thee,

And coin them all in minted gold,

What should I purchase that would hold

Their worth in joy to me?

Ah, Love - another hour with thee!