| All along the valley, stream that flashest
white, |
| Deepening thy voice with the deepening of
the night, |
| All along the valley, where thy waters
flow, |
| I walked with one I loved two and thirty
years ago. |
| All along the valley, while I walked today, |
| The two and thirty years were a mist that
rolls away ; |
| For all along the valley, down thy rocky
bed, |
| Thy living voice to me was as the voice of
the dead, |
| And all along the valley, by rock and cave
and tree, |
The voice of the dead was a living voice to
me.
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