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A Selection from the Lyrical Poems of Robert Herrick

209. TO THE WATER-NYMPHS DRINKING AT THE FOUNTAIN

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Reach with your whiter hands to me Some crystal of the spring; And I about the cup shall see Fresh lilies flourishing. Or else, sweet nymphs, do you but this— To th' glass your lips incline; And I shall see by that one kiss The water turn'd to wine.

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