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��THE
��SWISS COWHERD'S SONG,
��IN A FOREIGN LAND.
��Imitated from the foregoing.
��O. WHEN shall I visit the land of my birth, The loveliest land on the face of the earth ? When shall I those scenes of aft'ection explore,
Our forests, our fountains,
Our hamlets, our mountains, With the pride of our mountains, the maid I adore ? O, when shall I dance on the daisy white mead. In the shade of an elm, to the sound of the reed ?
�� �
