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 For repartee, and pun, and laughter Were carried away by what came after; And all the evening dissolved for me In a stream of molten melody, That floats In notes, Out-rolled Like liquid gold. That gushing strain, so sweet and clear, Moves a heart of stone to hear, "Riqui, Riqui, Riqui, Riqui." When the mocking bird can speak, he Talks just so, I know.