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						Ask Me No More by Lord Alfred Tennyson 
						
						Ask me no more: the moon may draw the sea;  The cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape,  With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape;  But O too fond, when have I answer'd thee?  Ask me no more. 
  Ask me no more: what answer should I give?  I love not hollow cheek or faded eye:  Yet, O my friend, I will not have thee die!  Ask me no more, lest I should bid thee live;  Ask me no more. 
  Ask me no more: thy fate and mine are seal'd:  I strove against the stream and all in vain:  Let the great river take me to the main:  No more, dear love, for at a touch I yield;  Ask me no more.						 
						
						
						
						
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