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The light soft coolness of the April breeze |
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Shook the fresh leaves: one single sun-beam there |
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Found entrance through the wilderness of trees, |
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And on th' untroubled pool lay silvery fair. |
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Then, midst the spreading curls of Florio's hair, |
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While the wind mov'd the branches, it would play:— |
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As if it mock'd the pangs of his despair |
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A moment on his tortured brow it lay, |
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Then, dancing o'er the flowers, would flit again away. |