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লোকনাথ বৰুৱা।

“Friend of my youth! When young
      we roved,
Like striplings, mutually beloved,
With friendship's purest glow,
The bliss which wing’d those rosy hours
Was such as pleasure seldom showers
On mortals here below,
The recollection seems alone
Dearer than all the joys I‘ve known
When distant far from you:
Though pain, 'tis still a pleasing pain
To trace those days and hours again
     Lord BYRON,