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Come forth, old man,--thy daughter's side Is now the fitting place for thee: When time has quell'd the oak's bold pride, The youthful tendril yet may hide, The ruins of the parent tree.
Come forth, old man,--thy daughter's side Is now the fitting place for thee: When time has quell'd the oak's bold pride, The youthful tendril yet may hide, The ruins of the parent tree.
