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If any Wench Venus's Girdle wear,
Though she be never so ugly,
Lillies and Roses will quickly appear,
And her face look wond'rous smuggly.
Beneath the left Ear, so fit but a Cord,
(A Rope so charming a Zone is!)
The Youth in his Cart hath the Air of a Lord,
And we cry, There dies an Adonis!
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