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Love, which had been knocking urgently at their doors for so many futile years, heard at last a movement as of someone stirring within, and a hand upon the disused latch. O Yanna, Adrianna, They buried me away In the blue fathoms of the deep, Beyond the outer bay. But in the Yule, O Yanna, Up from the round dim sea And reeling dungeons of the fog I am come back to thee!
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