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‹‹‹ prev (322) Page 294Page 294Ode, to tune of Polwarth on green

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(323) Page 295 - Tweed-side
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But yet fo cheerful, fprightly, gay,
The joyful, Moments fly.
As if for Wings they ftole the Ray
She darteth from her Eye.
Kind am’rous Cupids, while
With tuneful Voice fhe fings,
Prefume her Breath and fmile,
And wave their balmy Wings :
But as the tender Blufhes rife,
Soft Innocence doth warm,
The Soul in blifsful Extafies
Diffolveth in the Charm.
WHAT Beauties does Flora difclofe •?
How fweet are her Smiles upon Tweed ?
Yet Mary's flill fweeter than thofe,
Both Nature and Fancy exceed.
Not Daifie, nor fweet blufhing Rofe,
Not all the gay Flowers of the Field,
Not Tweed gliding gently thro’ thofe.
Such Beauty and Pleafure does yield.
T 4

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