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WERTER TO CHARLOTTE.
133
O, who shall bid this sorrow cease,
And gather up Life's wasted wine?
Not even Death can give me peace,—
He cannot part your soul and mine.
O haunting eyes, immortal eyes,
Love's bitter anguish never dies!
And gather up Life's wasted wine?
Not even Death can give me peace,—
He cannot part your soul and mine.
O haunting eyes, immortal eyes,
Love's bitter anguish never dies!
