II. TOO LATE.
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ach on his own strict line we move,And some find death ere they find love;So far apart their lives are thrownFrom the twin soul that halves their own. And sometimes, by still harder fate,The lovers meet, but meet too late.--Thy heart is mine! _True, true! ah, true!_--Then, love, thy hand! _Ah, no! adieu!_
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