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THOMAS D'URFEY Chloe Divine
/^HLOE's a Nymph in flowery groves, V^A Nereid in the streams, Saint-like she in the temple moves, A woman in my dreams.
Love steals artillery from hei eyes,
The Graces point her charms; Orpheus is rivalPd in her voice,
And Venus in her arms.
Never so happily in one
Did heaven and earth combine: And yet 'tis flesh and blood alone
That makes her so divine.
��CHARLES COTTON 408 To Coelia
r HEN, Cocha, must my old day set, And my young morning ribe In beams of joy so bright as yet My state is more advanced than when
I first attempted thee: I sued to be a servant then, But now to be made free.
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