| My love has made a fool of me
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| I’m wise enough to know
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| That roses on a thicket grow
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| And I shall climb for kisses every day
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| In such a shameless rush
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| That every other rose will blush and say
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| Oh love, what foolery
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| Oh love, what foolery
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| My love has made a fool of me
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| My love has made a moon of me
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| A rising smile of light
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| So sick and sharp and starry bright
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| That I shall climb for kisses every day
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| In such a shameless rush
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| That every cloud above will blush and say
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| Oh love, what lunacy
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| Oh love, what lunacy
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| My love has made a moon of me
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| My love has made a song of me
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| To know my heart and sing
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| And ride on his remembering
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| That I shall climb for kisses every day
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| In such a shameless rush
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| That when he sing my love will blush and say
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| Oh love, how comforting
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| Oh love, how comforting
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| My love has made a song of me
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| My love has made a stone of me
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| That wants to be a star
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| What faith could take a stone so far
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| And pierce the clouds that mock my day
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| With nature’s one straight line
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| That shaft of light that loves to shine
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| That ray
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| Your love, how comforting
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| My love, that starry little stone
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| That foolish little comfort |