Wilt thou, because thy Florio loves, Forsake the giddy glitt'ring throng, With him to dwell in peaceful groves, With him to hear the shepherd's song? Can'st thou, without a sigh, resign The homage by thy charms inspir'd? To one, oh! say, can'st thou confine What oft so many have admir'd? Sweet maid! oh! bless'd shall be our love, Till time shall bid it cease to flow; With thee shall ev'ry moment prove A little heaven form'd below!
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