Her ivory hands on the ivory keys Strayed in a fitful fantasy,Like the silver gleam when the poplar trees Rustle their pale leaves listlesslyOr the drifting foam of a restless seaWhen the waves show their teeth in the flying breeze.
Her ivory hands on the ivory keys Strayed in a fitful fantasy,Like the silver gleam when the poplar trees Rustle their pale leaves listlesslyOr the drifting foam of a restless seaWhen the waves show their teeth in the flying breeze.
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