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208
[Weep not for broad lands lost]
Weep not for broad lands lost;Weep not for fair hopes crost;
Weep not when limbs wax old;
Weep not when friends grow cold
Weep not that Death must part
Thine and the best-loved heart;
Yet weep, weep all thou can—
Weep, weep, because thou art
A sin-defilëd man.
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