I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me.
In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing
Shall I part my hair behind Do I dare to eat a peach I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach. I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me.
The nightingales are singing near The Convent of the Sacred Heart, And sang within the bloody wood When Agamemnon cried aloud, And let their liquid siftings fall To stain the stiff dishonored shroud.
And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.
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