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foreign: French Allez mes yeux jamais ne reverront vos charmes Zaire Tu m'as donc tout ravie, Dieux temoins de mes larmes Et bien qu'ais qu'il underline est vrai que vous /underline ne m'aimez plus /foreign

Ye vagrant winds, yon clouds that bear Thro' the blue desart of the air And wanton in the Summer sky Ah tell -- did e'er your breezes meet A wretch in misery so complete So lost as I? --

And yet where e'er your pinions wave From some lamented lover's grave, Surviving sorrows ceaseless rise, Some weeping Maid of hope beriven Sends to inexorable heaven Her fruitless sighs.

Blow where ye list on this sad earth Some Soul corroding care has birth, And sounds of greif encrease the gale. Here, languid, sick despondence; there, The frantic cry of wild despair And anguish pale.