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Lyrics: James William Dodd

Braiding chaplets t'other day,
'Mongst the roses Cupid lay;
Soon as I spied the wanton thing,
I slyly caught him by the wing
Then plunged him in a brimming glass
And drank it to my fav'rite lass;
Since when, I swear I feel no rest,
The rogue so flutters in my breast.

Anon
(c.1795)

Braiding chaplets t'other day

(T.T.B.)

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