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161

(1121)
'You mocking birds,' quoth she, 'your tunes entomb (1122)

Within your hollow-swelling feather'd breasts, (1123)

And in my hearing be you mute and dumb: (1124)

My restless discord loves no stops nor rests; (1125)

A woeful hostess brooks not merry guests:
(1126)
Relish your nimble notes to pleasing ears; (1127)

Distress likes dumps when time is kept with tears.

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