Celia has a thousand charms: 'Tis heaven within her arms. While I stand gazing on her face Some new and some resistless Grace Fill with fresh magic all the place. But while the nymph I thus adore, I should my wretched fate deplore. But, oh, Mirtillo, have a care, Her sweetness is beyond compare. But then she's false as well as fair. Have a care, Mirtillo, have a care.
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