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A LA CLAIRE FONTAINE.
Down to the crystal streamlet
I strayed at close of day;
Into its limpid waters,
I plunged without delay.
I've loved thee long and dearly,
I'll love thee, Sweet, for aye.
Into its limpid waters,
I plunged without delay;
Then mid the flowers springing
At the oak-tree's foot I lay.
Then mid the flowers springing
At the oak-tree's foot I lay;
Sweet the nightingale was singing,
High on the topmost spray.
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