A Dream by William Allingham

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On, on, a moving bridge they made

Across the moon-stream, from shade to shade

Young and old, women and men;

Many long-forgot, but remembered then,

And first there came a bitter laughter;

A sound of tears a moment after;

And then a music so lofty and so gay,

That eve morning, day by day,

I strive to recall it if I may

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