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HAVE found out a gift for my fair;

I know where the fossils abound,

Where the foot-prints of Aves declare

The birds that once walked on the ground;

O, come, and—in technical speech—

We'll walk this Devonian shore,

Or on some Silurian beach

We'll wander, my love, evermore.

I will show thee the sinuous track

By the slow-moving annelid made,

Or the Trilobite that, further back,

In the old Potsdam sandstone was laid.