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From northern or from southern skies To make an earthly paradise. Their path was through a little grove, Where cypress branches met above, Green, shadowy, as nature meant To make the rose a summer tent, In fear and care, lest the hot noon Should kiss her fragrant brow too soon. Oh! passion's history, ever thus Love's light and breath were perilous! On the one side a fountain play'd As if it were a Fairy's shade, Who shower'd diamonds to streak The red pomegranate's ruby cheek. The grove led to a lake, one side Sweet scented shrubs and willows hide: