As shows the air when with a rainbow grac’d,
So smiles that riband ’bout my Julia’s waist
Or like—nay ’tis that zonulet of love,
Wherein all pleasures of the world are wove.
So smiles that riband ’bout my Julia’s waist
Or like—nay ’tis that zonulet of love,
Wherein all pleasures of the world are wove.
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