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hail to the princess | a u r o r a

One gift, beauty rare
             Gold of sunshine in her hair,
                              Lips that shame the red, red rose;
                                                          She'll walk with springtime
                                                                                          Wherever she goes.

One gift, the gift of song                                                                          
Melody her whole life long;                                            
The nightingale's her troubadour,                  
Bringing sweet serenade         
to her door.