The dark clouds loom over our heads, lover
Our souls and bodies are crying my sufferer
Back when our feet little and eyes large
With hope and happiness, floated boats with barge ...
All love that has not friendship for its base,
Is like a mansion built upon the sand.
Though brave its walls as any in the land,
And its tall turrets lift their heads in grace;
Though skillful and accomplished artists trace
Most beautiful designs on every hand,
And gleaming statues in dim niches stand,
And mountains play in some flow'r-hidden place:
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