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She is a maid of artless grace, Gentle in form, and fair of face,

Tell me, thou ancient mariner, That sailest on the sea, If ship, or sail or evening star Be half so fair as she!

Tell me, thou gallant cavalier, Whose shining arms I see, If steel, or sword, or battle-field Be half so fair as she!

Tell me, thou swain, that guard'st thy flock Beneath the shadowy tree, If flock, or vale, or mountain-ridge Be half so fair as she!