| Philomel - |
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| To His Friend Master R. L., in Praise of Music and Poetry - |
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| Fair was the morn when the fair queen of love |
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| My flocks feed not |
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| When as thine eye hath chose the dame |
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| Live with me, and be my love |
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| When will my May come, that I may embrace thee? |
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| Daphnis to Ganymede - |
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| If thou wilt love me, thou shalt be my boy |
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| Scarce had the morning starre hid from the light |
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