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My Friend
NH ( / London)

My Friend

I have a friend,
In a camper site,
Whom i talk to by the day,
And visit by the night,
He talks of the moon,
And lifes long hours,
We ask questions of the sun,
And the truth of Gods powers,
We sit and sing,
To music old and sad,
The wicked waves of terror,
Doth seep and make all things bad,
Then we fall in slumber,
And dream of a hundred sheep,
And whisper secrets in our ears,
Which we shall never keep.

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