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Rh Sacred to harmony and love, Inspired by friendship and by Jove, Our bowls with nect’rous vigour flow, Our bosom share the mutual glow; While mirth, descending from above, Hail us the jovial sons of Jove.

Hark! the hollow woods resounding, With the joyful hunters’ cry; See the stag o’er hedges bounding, Now proclaims that they are nigh.

Now the hounds the stag approaching, Now the huntsmen doth appear; On his swiftness they’re approaching, He distracted runs with fear.

Now the stag himself defending With his antlers, but in vain— For his trembling limbs are bending, Weaken’d with distracting pain.

Now their pleasure it is ending, And the tears flow from his eyes; Now no more for life contending, Plunging forward, falls and dies.