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Little Lady Echo


She is such a pretty child,
  1
With her wistful delicate ways,
Her veiled mock-mystic eyes,
And her mimicking art of praise,
Her lisping, silvery, lies;
  5
Saying over and over,
Like some daft and dreaming lover,
Our idlest phrase;
Ah! how one wearies, all unbeguiled,
  9
Of the duplicate things she says.







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