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[0] => or, The Vale of St John. A Lover's Tale
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[0] => Come, Lucy! while 'tis morning hour, / %The woodland brook we needs must pass; / So ere the sun assume his power, / We shelter in our popular bower, / Where dew lies long upon the flower, / %Though vanish'd from the velvet grass / Curbing the stream, this stony ridge / May serve us for a silvan bridge; / %For here compell'd to disunite, / %%Round petty isles the runnels glide, / And chafing off their puny spite, / The shallow murmurers waste their might, / %Yielding to footstep free and light / %%A dry-shod pass from side to side.
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