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. I am an island child, Of dire rocks and thistle, Clear lake and lone skies, Of bonny birds who whistle, I race the strands with tides, Waiting for my lad to meet, So lonely are the night stars I dreamt in my loft to sleep, Far is the isle of my mind, To slip away on new voyage, Near is the sorrow into kind, As I wait for keep in marriage. .
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Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 5:06 AM UTC
Skara Brae
. I am an island child, Of dire rocks and thistle, Clear lake and lone skies, Of bonny birds who whistle, I race the strands with tides, Waiting for my lad to meet, So lonely are the night stars I dreamt in my loft to sleep, Far is the isle of my mind, To slip away on new voyage, Near is the sorrow into kind, As I wait for keep in marriage. .
rainey-birthwright
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Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 5:06 AM UTC
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