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What, know you not, old man (quoth he)— — Arcadia

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"What, know you not, old man (quoth he)— Your hair is white, your face is wise— That Love must kiss that Mortals eyes Who hopes to see fair Arcady? No gold can buy you entrance there; But beggared Love may go all bare— No wisdom won with weariness; But love goes in with Follys dress— No fame that wit could ever win; But only Love may lead Love in. To Arcady, to Arcady."
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Arcadia
Arcadia
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