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44  Beauty's blooming flower is thine,
 * And on thy cheek it glows;

But do not lilies brighter shine
 * When blended with the rose?

prate to me of critic rules, And jargon of the jangling schools? Your learned dogmas, prithee, spare, They're useless all—not worth my care. I'll hear thee gladly, canst thou tell The happy art of living well; How best to mix the sparkling wine, To make the mellow draught divine;