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While at work had slumber stolen o'er her;For her knitting and her needle found IResting in her folded bands so tender;And I placed myself beside her softly,And held counsel, whether I should wake her.

Ah, one single blissful night!"The priests chaunt in chorus: "We bear out the old,When long they've been weary, and late they've grown cold:We bear out the young, too, so thoughtless and light.