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RECITATIVO.
Beneath an aged Oak, whose verdant Head
Stretch'd o'er the Vale its venerable Shade;
Beside a Brook, whose Bosom, all serene,
Reflected back the Beauties of the Scene,
That various Flowers that on the Border grew,
The Grove's gay Verdure, and the Sky's clear blue,
Young Strephon lay: Strephon the blythest Swain
That ever pip'd or danc'd upon the Plain;
Of all Love's Votaries, since old Adam's Fall,
None deeper drank the Honey, or the Gall;
But, freed at length, the Chain no more can bind,
Returning Reason opens on his Mind,
New Prospects dawn, new Hopes his Thoughts employ;
And thus he hails the Birth-Day of his Joy.
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