Page:Poems - Lewis (1812).djvu/100

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POEMS.

NANINE,

OR,

THE EMIGRANT.

On the waves the winds were sleeping,Swift my boat approached the land:There I found a Maiden weeping;Who can female tears withstand?Ceased at once my joyous ditty,Gently moved my silent oar,While I said in sounds of pity,—"Pry'thee, Sweet-heart, weep no more!"—
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