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 Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide,...  Select Works of the British Poets: With Biographical and Critical Prefaces - Էջ 136 John Aikin - 1826 - 807 էջ Ամբողջությամբ դիտվող -
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