Ye valleys low where the mild whispers use, Of shades and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks, Throw hither all your quaint enameled eyes, That on the green turf such the honeyed showers, And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.
He makes sweet music with the enameled stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge, He overtaketh in his pilgrimage.william shakespeare
Gently running made sweet music with the enameled stones and seemed to give a gentle kiss to every sedge he overtook in his watery pilgrimage.
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