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8
Now do not deal Hal, while abroad you are straying,
That heart which is mine on a rival bestow;
Nay banish that frown, such displeasure betraying,
Do you think I suspect you? oh no my love no
I believe you too kind for one moment to grieve me,
Or plant in a heart which adores you such woe;
Yet should you dishonour my truth and deceive me
Should I e'er cease to love you? oh no my love no.
FINIS.
