There's a ring gaudy-green in the dell,

Sing, sing, ye sweet cherubs, that flit in the tree;

La! who can draw tears from a well-well-well,

Who ever drew tears from a well!

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ALULVAN

The sun is clear of bird and cloud,

The grass shines windless, grey, and still,

In dusky ruin the owl dreams on,

The cuckoo echoes on the hill;