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Lyrics by John B Tabb

Tabb, John B. (1845-1909)

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QUATRAINS.
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SONNETS.

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82

AT LAST.

How full of phantoms are the days
That shorten as they go!
Along the once frequented ways,
Alas, are none I know!
Lone relic of reality,
I too a phantom fain would be.
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