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Ill love you, dear, Ill love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,
Ill love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.
The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world.
Ample make this bed.
Make this bed with awe;
In it wait till judgment break
Excellent and fair.
Be its mattress straight,
Be its pillow round;
Let no sunrise yellow noise
Interrupt this ground.
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