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Rh And feed the flowering oier's early shoots; And call thoe winds which thro' the whipering boughs With warm and pleaant breath Salute the blowing flowers.

Now let me it beneath the whitening thorn, And mark thy preading tints teal o'er the dale; And watch with patient eye Thy fair unfolding charms.

O nymph approach! while yet the temperate un With bahful forehead, thro' the cool moit air Throws his young maiden beams, And with chate kies wooes

The earth's fair boom; while the treaming veil Of lucid clouds with kind and frequent hade Protects thy modet blooms From his everer blaze.