“Blow, breezes, blow! Let Curdken’s hat go! Blow breezes, blow! Let him after it go! O’er hills, dales, and rocks, Away be it whirl’d, Till the golden locks Are all comb’d and curl’d!” Then.”
“Blow, breezes, blow! Let Curdken’s hat go! Blow breezes, blow! Let him after it go! O’er hills, dales, and rocks, Away be it whirl’d, Till the golden locks Are all comb’d and curl’d!” Then.”
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