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How shall I know, unless I go
To Cairo and Cathay,
Whether or not this blessed spot
Is blest in every way?


Now it may be, the flower for me
Is this beneath my nose;
How shall I tell, unless I smell
The Carthaginian rose?


The fabric of my faithful love
No power shall dim or ravel
Whilst I stay here--but oh, my dear,
If I should ever travel!