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Helen Maria Williams
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A SONG. I. No riches from his scanty store My lover could impart;He gave a boon I valued more— He gave me all his heart! II. His soul sincere, his gen'rous worth, Might well this bosom move;And when I ask'd for bliss on earth, I only meant his love. III. But now for me, in search of gain From shore to shore he flies:Why wander riches to obtain, When love is all I prize?...
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