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How delicious is the winning |
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Of a kiss at love’s beginning, |
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When two mutual hearts are sighing |
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For the knot there’s no untying!
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Yet remember, ’midst our wooing, |
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Love has bliss, but Love has ruing; |
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Other smiles may make you fickle, |
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Tears for other charms may trickle.
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Love he comes, and Love he tarries, |
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Just as fate or fancy carries; |
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Longest stays, when sorest chidden; |
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Laughs and flies, when press’d and bidden.
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Bind the sea to slumber stilly, |
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Bind its odour to the lily, |
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Bind the aspen ne’er to quiver, |
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Then bind Love to last for ever.
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Love’s a fire that need renewal |
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Of fresh beauty for its fuel: |
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Love’s wing moults when caged and captured, |
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Only free, he soars enraptured.
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Can you keep the bee from ranging |
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Or the ringdove’s neck from changing? |
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No! nor fetter’d Love from dying |
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In the knot there’s no untying. |