Song
by John Gay (1685-1782)

O ruddier than the cherry,
O sweeter than the berry,
   O Nymph more bright
   Than moonshine night,
Like kidlings blithe and merry.
Ripe as the melting cluster,
No lily has such lustre;
   Yet hard to tame,
   As raging flame,
And fierce as storms that bluster.

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