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Rh He'd glimpsed at Eden from the Caucasus

When you two started Dulce—'tis a tune

I can't forbear the taste of—jubilo!

But come, good Doctor; here's to Eden. Health!

Saw you the serpent?

I saw naught to fear.

There's naught to fear from Heaven through to Hell;

Nothing that mind can't solve. Mind is the king—

And queen too—ah the gold and scarlet minds

O' Lasses! Hey lads? And the golden lips

Of many golden tunes,—how goes the song?—

"Bursts the red grape, sweet oh sweet!

Lips o' maid are sweeter."

Be still, Fritz! That's an evil tune,—thin tune,