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Widow With Shawl (a Portrait)
par
Donovan
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Dear Wind that shakes the barley free Blow home my true love's ship to me, fill the sail I a-weary wait upon the shore. Forsake her not in times of storm Protect her oaken beams from harm, fill her sail I a-weary wait upon the shore. Whither he be in Africa or deep asleep in India, fill his dreams I a-weary wait upon the shore. Dear snow white gulls upon the wave I, like you, am lamenting, for my love. I a-weary cry upon the shore. And in my chariot of sleep, I ride the vast and dreamy deep deep sea. I awake a-weary on the shore. Seven years and Seven days, no man has seen my woman ways, dear God. I a-weary cry upon the shore. Along the shingled beach I go The wind about me as I make my way to my weary dream upon my bed. Dear Wind that shakes the barley free Blow home my true love's ship to me, fill the sail. I a-weary wait upon the shore.
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