| And there the bowl of ambrosia was mixed |
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| She called him her son |
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| Then delicately in thick robe I sprang |
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| This is the dust of Timas |
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| A Sweet-voiced maiden |
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| What peasant-girl bewitches thy heart |
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| I love delicacy, and for me Love has the sun's splendour and beauty |
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| Wealth without worth is not safe neighbor |
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| Sleep thou in the bosom of thy tender girl-friend |
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| To the doorkeeper feet seven fathoms long |
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