Page:Three Plays Sunderland Hills.pdf/87

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Ah forbear Your sugar'd words, lest like a foolish fly, You drown in honey.

'Tis the death I crave, My honey-bee! These flowers are consecrate To Artemis, but there are blooms enough Within the groves of Daphne for us two, For you to gather honey, for me to sip, Away to Daphne then.

Away, Away!

(They pass out )

(Looking after them):

Fair fortune 'fal you, happy youth and maid, Opora ever was a lover of love!