VII. Wild nights! Wild nights! Were I with thee, Wild nights should be Our luxury! Futile the winds To a heart in port, -- Done with the compass, Done with the chart. Rowing in Eden! Ah! the sea! Might I but moor To-night in thee!
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VII. Wild nights! Wild nights! Were I with thee, Wild nights should be Our luxury! Futile the winds To a heart in port, -- Done with the compass, Done with the chart. Rowing in Eden! Ah! the sea! Might I but moor To-night in thee!