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* * * If the heart of a man is deprest with cares, The mist is dispell'd when a woman appears; Like the notes of a fiddle, she sweetly, sweetly Raises the spirits, and charms our ears. Roses and lillies her cheeks disclose, But her ripe lips are more sweet than those. Press her, Caress her, With blisses, Her kisses Dissolve us in pleasure, and soft repose. John Gay's other poems:
Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1646 |
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