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WONDER whether April-weather Has taught you, lady, how to rule My eager heart With frolic art, And keep it playing still Love's fool.

Your sunny breeze is False, and freezes; And when I think a freshening rain Has come, the gust Brings only dust, And leaves me parched with barren pain.

A woman's favor Loses savor If it be yielded all too soon;— 'Tis very true. But were I you I'd heed the changes of the moon.