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Anne Bronte - Oh, they have robbed me of the hope
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Oh, they have robbed me of the hope
My spirit held so dear;
They will not let me hear that voice
My soul delights to hear. 
They will not let me see that face
I so delight to see;
And they have taken all thy smiles,
And all thy love from me.

Well, let them seize on all they can: —
One treasure still is mine, —
A heart that loves to think on thee,
And feels the worth of thine.
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