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D S Th P(1 / 1)

deded swa, the pleasure

tune—“the llier&039;s dochter”

deded swa, the pleasure

the fickle fair can give thee,

is but a fairy treasure,

thy hopes will on deceive thee:

the billows on the ocean,

the breezes idly roag,

the cloud&039;s uncerta otion,

they are but types of woan

o art thou not asha&039;d

to doat upon a feature?

if an thou wouldst be na&039;d,

despise the silly creature

go, fd an honest fellow,

good cret set before thee,

hold on till thou art llow,

and then to bed glory!

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