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Rhymes from the Russian

by John Pollen

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Passion

Ah! could I but utter in song
  All the anguish which robs me of peace,
Thy sorrow of soul would be stilled,
  Thy murmur of doubting would cease!
I would breathe forth my life, my beloved,
  As I told all my pain for thy sake;
And, bursting in passionate song,
  My heart in its fulness would break.

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