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If you look to vale or hill,If you listen, all is still,Save a little neighbouring Rill;That from out the rocky groundStrikes a solitary sound.Vainly glitters hill and plain,And the air is calm in vain;Vainly Morning spreads the lureOf a sky serene and pure;Creature none can she decoyInto open sign of joy:Is it that they have a fearOf the dreary season near?Or that other pleasures beSweeter even than gaiety?
Yet, whate'er enjoyments dwellIn the impenetrable cell
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