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Rh  How best to please the lovely fair, For this indeed is worth my care. Alas! each day, each hour I know, My hoary locks still whiter grow: Then bring the goblet—let me drink, 'Twill only make me sad to think How near, how very near the day When, mix'd with earth and kindred clay, My soul no more shall taste of joy, Nor schemes of bliss my mind employ.

newborn Spring awakes the flowers, And bathes their buds in dewy showers: The roses bloom, the Graces wear Fresh flowery garlands in their hair. How sleeps the sea in placid rest! No storms disturb its peaceful breast; But oft upon its surface green The diving duck is sporting seen. From distant skies now comes the crane To seek her well-known haunts again;