A aleta no steeple de Hughley veers brilhante, um sinal distante-sabido, e encontra-se povos de Hughley, e encontra-se amigos de meus. Alto em seu meio a torre divide a mscara e o sol, e o pulso de disparo golpeia a hora e diz o tempo a nenhuns.
Ao sul os headstones aglomeram-se, a mentira ensolarada dos montes densamente; Os mortos so mais no agrupamento em Hughley do que rpidos. Norte, para um nmero logo-dito, sepulturas que frias o sexton delves, e slumber steeple-sombreado os slayers dse.
Ao norte, ao sul, a mentira partiu-se, com torre de Hughley acima, o tipo, os nicos-hearted, lads que eu me usei amar. E, sul ou norte, ' a escolha dos tis somente A dos amigos um sabe, e eu ne'er estarei adormecido s com estes ou os aqueles.
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