If that fair elm alone should stand, 
No grapes would glow with gold and tempt the hand, 
Or if that vine without her elm should grow, 
T'would creep, a poor neglected shrub below. 

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Help bucksome God then! so may the lov'd Vine
Swarm with num'rous grapes, and big with Wine
Load the kind Elm, and so thy Orgyes be
With priests lowd showtes, and Satyrs kept to thee!

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