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Edenian
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The Ghost
Softly as brown-eyed Angels rove I will return to thy alcove And glide upon the night to thee Treading the shadows silently
And when returns the livid morn Thou shalt find all my place forlorn And chilly, till the falling night
And I will give to thee, my own Kisses as icy as the moon And the caresses of a snake Cold gliding in the thorny brake
Others would rule by tenderness Over thy life and youthfulness But I would conquer thee by fright!
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