Cleo
She Beat her milk-white breast
Where the young god was laid
And at his vigil feast
Of me her captive made.
If thus she'll mourn for me
I will no longer stay,
Adonis, let's to sea
And hasten on death's way.
Where the young god was laid
And at his vigil feast
Of me her captive made.
If thus she'll mourn for me
I will no longer stay,
Adonis, let's to sea
And hasten on death's way.
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