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SONGS, ETC. |
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SONG.
On yon fair brook's enamel I'd side,
Behold my Chloe stands ; My angle trembles o'er the tide,
As conscious of her hands.
Calm as the gentle waves appear,
Her thoughts serenely flow ; Calm as the softly breathing air,
That curls the brook below.
Such charms her sparkling eyes disclose, With such soft power endu'd,
She seems a new-born Venus, rose From the transparent flood.
From each green bank and mossy cave
The scaly race repair ; They sport beneath the crystal wave,
And kiss her image there.
How bright the silver eel, enroIPd
In shining volumes lies ; There basks the carp bedropp'd with gold,.
In the sunshine of her eyes. |
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