II. _Song._
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'er the smooth enamelled green,Where no print of step hath been, 85Follow me, as I singAnd touch the warbled string:Under the shady roofOf branching elm star-proofFollow me. 90I will bring you where she sits,Clad in splendor as befitsHer deity.Such a rural QueenAll Arcadia hath not seen. 95
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