Where are the friends that I knew in my Maying,
In the days of my youth, in the first of my roaming?
We were dear; we were leal; O, far we went straying;
Now never a heart to my heart comes homing!- ...
None who saw it ever told it
'Tis as hid as Death
Had for that specific treasure
A departing breath-
Surfaces may be invested
Did the Diamond grow
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