| What more? 'Twas Rupert's fate to wed the maiden |
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| Thus I descend, my reason warped awry |
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| Meanwhile young Hermes in his cradle listening |
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| Then — if she loves you — at the touch of lips |
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| Hot Rupert of the Sword, whose deeds of might |
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| Lo the gray shafts of unfatigued Apollo |
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| When the Far-worker then beheld the boy |
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| He tried it first upon a pretty creature |
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| Even while I think this thought the vision vanishes |
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| Useless the interruption. From the folio |
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