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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