Chapter_417

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And every day by daybreak⁠—rather early

For Juan, who was somewhat fond of rest⁠—

She came into the cave, but it was merely

To see her bird reposing in his nest;

And she would softly stir his locks so curly,

Without disturbing her yet slumbering guest,

Breathing all gently o’er his cheek and mouth,

As o’er a bed of roses the sweet South.