O happy Tithon! if thou know'st thy hap,
And valuest thy wealth, as I my want,
Then need'st thou not-which ah! I grieve to grant-
Repine at Jove, lull'd in his leman's lap: ...
Distrustful of the Gentian-
And just to turn away,
The fluttering of her fringes
Child my perfidy-
Weary for my-----
I will singing go-
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