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say that beauty is a rose,

And you are right—I cannot doubt it;

Show me the garden where it grows,

And I will never be without it.

pluck it every day—and be

Fresh as the buds the dews drop over,

A never-fading flower to thee—

Be thou to me—a faithful lover.

the turkish boundary,

A watchman hath one child alone,

O God! O God! what bliss 'twould be,

If I could call that girl mine own.