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There once more he saw the shepherds tend their flocks, singing or wrangling with one another, dreamily piping on their wax-stopped reeds or plotting to annex their neighbours' gear; or else there sounded in his ears the love-song or the dirge, or the incantation of the forsaken girl rose amid the silence to the silver moon.
'Come hither, my prince, and take this fair pipe, honey-breathed with wax-stopped joints; and well it fits thy lip: for verily I, even I, by Love am now haled to Hades. Give o'er, ye Muses, come, give o'er the pastoral song! 'Now violets bear, ye brambles, ye thorns bear violets; and let fair narcissus bloom on the boughs of juniper!
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