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Poem by John Dyer
See, the flowery Spring is blown, Let us leave the smoky Town: From the Mall, and from the Ring, Every one has taken wing; Cloe, Strephon, Corydon, To the meadows all are gone What is left you worth your stay? Come, Aurelia, come away. Come, Aurelia, come and see What a lodge I've dress'd for thee; But the seat you cannot see, 'Tis so hid with jessamy, With the vine that o'er the walls, And in every window, crawls; Let us there be blithe and gay! Come, Aurelia, come away. Come with all thy sweetest wiles, With thy graces and thy smiles; Come, and we will merry be, Who shall be so blest as we? We will frolic all the day, Haste, Aurelia, while we may: Ay! and should not life be gay? Yes, Aurelia—Come away.
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