My nosegays are for captives
Dim, long-expectant eyes
Fingers denied the plucking
Patient till paradise
To such, if they should whisper
Of morning and the moor
They bear no other errand
And I, no other prayer
Dim, long-expectant eyes
Fingers denied the plucking
Patient till paradise
To such, if they should whisper
Of morning and the moor
They bear no other errand
And I, no other prayer
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