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Dreaming of Calais Calais is where I used to dwell. My house above the sea. Where I could hear the fog horn's bell. The wind blew wild and free. There was a path that plunged below, Across the cliff's old face And daily to the beach I'd go, To watch the breakers race And in their roar, I heard a song From land that beckoned me. I knew that I'd be there ere long. It was my destiny. Now life to me has been most kind. I have been blessed I'd say, But often in the night, I find, I'm dreaming of Calais And I can see the harbor there. The houses and the quay. The boats that sail through foul and fair, For fishing every day. There is a bond to childhood's home, That never goes away. No matter where I chance to roam, I still dream of Calais! |
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