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But come, thou Goddess fair and free,
In Heav'n yclep'd Euphrosyne,
And, by men, heart-easing Mirth,
Whom lovely Venus, at a birth,
With two sister Graces more,
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore;
Or whether (as some sager sing)

The frolic wind that breathes the spring,

Zephyr, with Aurora playing,

As he met her once a Maying,

There, on beds of violets blue,
And fresh-blown roses wash'd in dew,

Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair,
So buxom, blithe, and debonair.

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