Texts
The voice of my beloved sounds While over the mountain top He boundsThe scattered clouds are fled at lastThe scatter'd clouds are fled at last,
The rain is gone, the winter's past,
The lovely vernal flow'rs appear,
The feather'd choirs invite our ear.
The scatter'd clouds are fled at last,
The rain is gone, the winter's past,
The lovely vernal flow'rs appear,
The feather'd choirs invite our ear.
The lovely vernal flow'rs appear,
The feather'd choirs invite or ear.
Now with sweetly pensive moan,
Coos the turtle dove alone.
Now with sweetly pensive moan,
Coos the turtle dove alone,
Coos the turtle dove alone,
Coos the turtle dove alone.
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