CIRCE.
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oolish boy! Why tremblest thou?Thou lovest it, then, my wine?Wouldst more of it? See how glows,Through the delicate, flushed marble,The red creaming liquor,Strewn with dark seeds!Drink, then! I chide thee not,Deny thee not my bowl.Come, stretch forth thy hand, then--so!Drink--drink again!
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