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Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by walking eyes.

Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:

Ever drifting down the stream —
Lingering in the golden gleam —
Life, what is it but a dream?

Part of:
A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky
By Lewis Carroll

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