The fields abroad with spangled flowers are gilded
The meads are mantled, and closes
In May, each bush arrayed, and sweet wild roses
The nightingale her bower hath gaily builded
And full of kindly lust, and love's inspiring
"I love" she sings, hark: her mate desiring
The meads are mantled, and closes
In May, each bush arrayed, and sweet wild roses
The nightingale her bower hath gaily builded
And full of kindly lust, and love's inspiring
"I love" she sings, hark: her mate desiring
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