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Sonne trat unten von seinem goldenen Throne
lassen Sie uns Pity die, denen besser seien Sie weg von, als wir sind
Nacht ist dunkel und die Winterwinde
ich bot sie aller Abschied
wenn Nacht entlang den Straßen der Stadt treibt
es ist zutreffend, daß Sie sagen, daß die Götter mehr Gebrauch zu Ihnen als Feen sind

 



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