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��THE

��SWISS COWHERD'S SONG,

��IN A FOREIGN LAND.

��Imitated from the foregoing.

��O. WHEN shall I visit the land of my birth, The loveliest land on the face of the earth ? When shall I those scenes of aft'ection explore,

Our forests, our fountains,

Our hamlets, our mountains, With the pride of our mountains, the maid I adore ? O, when shall I dance on the daisy white mead. In the shade of an elm, to the sound of the reed ?

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