My Heart, When First the Blackbird Sings by Robert Louis Stevenson

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My heart, when first the blackbird sings, / My heart drinks in the song: / Cool pleasure fills my bosom through / And spreads each nerve along.

My bosom eddies quietly, / My heart is stirred and cool / As when a wind-moved briar sweeps / A stone into a pool / But unto thee, when thee I meet, / My pulses thicken fast, / As when the maddened lake grows black / And ruffles in the blast.

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