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Amy Levy - In the Mile End RoadAmy Levy - In the Mile End Road
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  HOW like her!  But `tis she herself,      Comes up the crowded street,   How little did I think, the morn,     My only love to meet!   Whose else that motion and that mien?     Whose else that airy tread?   For one strange moment I forgot     My only love was dead.
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