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An early poem by Robert Burns. Scholars are divided over the identity of the young lady in question, with three possible contenders being suggested.

“From thee, Eliza, I must go, And from my native shore;

The cruel fates between us throw A boundless ocean's roar:

But boundless oceans, roaring wide, Between my love and me,

They never, never can divide My heart and soul from thee.

Farewell, farewell, Eliza dear, The maid that I adore!

A boding voice is in mine ear, We part to meet no more!

But the latest throb that leaves my heart, While Death stands victor by, -

That throb, Eliza, is thy part, And thine that latest sigh!”

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