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Glide, gentle streams, and bear Along with you my tear To that coy girl Who smiles, yet slays Me with delays, And strings my tears as pearl.

See! see, she's yonder set, Making a carcanet Of maiden-flowers! There, there present This orient And pendant pearl of ours.

Then say I've sent one more Gem to enrich her store; And that is all Which I can send, Or vainly spend, For tears no more will fall.

Nor will I seek supply Of them, the spring's once dry; But I'll devise, Among the rest, A way that's best How I may save mine eyes.

Yet say—should she condemn Me to surrender them