The Seat Under the Tree

H ERE'S the place to seat us, love!
A perfect arbour! Look above,
How the delicate sprays, like hair,
Bend them to the breaths of air!
Listen, too! It is a rill,
Telling us its gentle will.
Who that knows what luxury is,
Could go by a place like this?
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Author of original: 
Anacreon
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