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How silv'ry bright the Arno flows, how calm Its tranquil breast: the gentle waters steal Through the fresh sedges noiselessly; nor till The bubbling spring that bursts from yonder cliff, Bounds over rock and stone, in haste to blend Its tributary streams, does the sweet sound, The gurgling music of the rippling wave, Break on the listening ear. The ruddy beam Of the bright west hath made the waters blush, As though they glided o'er a ruby bed, And where the willow dips its graceful boughs, Seems a rich mine of emerald. Beneath The bow'ring trees that skirt the velvet lawn Gambols a sportive kid, and turtle doves Plume their bright wings, and murmur notes of love. Where is Giovanni? I must prattle on Without his kind response; 'tis past the hour In which he should return: his eager steps