| Thou whose every part is charming, Every whit of thee is fair |
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| Youth, loveliking and dalliance And wine of ruby hue |
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| There's no fair one in the city That my heart away shall carry |
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| Now that the hand of the rose The wine cup clear upraises |
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| If again my footsteps Fortune To the Magians' temple bore |
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| My soul, for poortith's load, in sorry case is |
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| Thou whose mouth the tale of sugar Laugheth unto scorn |
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| Lord, of thy favour, cause That my Loved One safe and hale |
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| To yonder Friend heart-soothing Thanks with complaint I mell |
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| Oh, is it not time that the Loved Ones, indeed, should relent |
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