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PARAPHRSE FROM HORACE.

CARM. III. 9.

HE.That belle, whose eyes are bright as day,

Whose hair's all gold, she now is mine.

Her dress is perfect, ladies say;

She plays Chopin with art almost divine.

For her my life I'd gladly give,

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If so she might the happier live.

SHE.Augustus Beacon Somerset

And I have pledged unending love,

So fair a one I never met;

He dances like an angel from above!

Twice would I gladly die, in truth,

So Heaven would spare the lovely youth.

HE.What if our former love returned,

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