a wonder sits on my shoulder now he thinks of you and sighs and touched by the scent of a bolder love he waits with sightless eyes perhaps this waiting will not tell him more than love can rhyme perhaps my nature will not learn him more, nor give him time but he waits and thinks and claims of me a brighter, lesser wrong and crying, cries, ah, my nature oh, my nature. now that you are gone. resist. resist. he will not turn for all of love's soft kisses his dreams are lost, his man is wrong and rhyme is all he misses oh shame that one is rent again this heart will fail anew but nothing fairs so well as time when no one comes to you so he sits and waits and claims from me a rhyme, a tear, a song then sighing says, ah, my nature oh, my nature, now that you are gone.
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