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Now at thy call to come I do not deiga:

Beyond thy power presume no more to reiga.

Let me again the tones harmonious bear,

(Truly to bear) I still in fancy can,

Which, when their magic work began,

The passions lulling, proved the power of sorg;
While thoughts distemper'd from the breast of man
Were charm'd away, nor aught seem'd gloomy near.
By this my verse was made to appear

Above itself, ne'er since so sweet or strong:
And to the mind as faculties belong

To call up forms unreal, let my eyes

And ears their proper objects joy to find.
While others all, of every kind,

Are only near, my life I lightly prize.
Vainly dost thou thy singled victim doom,
While his first love is shrouded in the tomb.

Let the sweet glance returning bless my sight, That soften'd my vain pride, as beams the snow; And let my happy fortune show

heart.

Thee placed near her who sends them to my
Swift take thy golden dart, and take thy bow
Bring her pronouncing words that wake delight,
And hearing which I learn'd aright,

How stored with captivating charms thou art.
Bid not her tongue be still; that winning part
Had baits around to lure me, and which still
I crave; and plant on every side a snare
Within her light and curling hair:

I cannot without this thy power allow.
Spread with thy hands those tresses to the gales;
And then I may confess thy power prevails.

Ne'er might I from the golden snares be free
Of ringlets, left to charm with Nature's grace;
Nor from the influence of that face

Which with its sweet severity inthrall'd,
Which busy Fancy still delights to trace;

Which kept for ever love unchanged in me,
As close to many a fading tree,

Those plants, of Venus and Apollo call'd!

But, since the gift of Liberty, appall'd

I have beheld presented me by Death;

And thou cans and bone else, whome er choc chos,

To second thy ambulous views,

My pride may dare tee

Thy day is pass'd;

my latex breath

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I dreaded once, try rage no more alarms

Those arms were vivid eyes, whence, tap wat
Darts showring, well-directed by thy band,
Which Reason could ax e'er with sand,

Fulti'd Heaven's will; the charm of modes Min
Or feeling Thought; Silence; or, at command,
Gay Laughter; courteous ways that awe inspire;
Chaste locks, and words we might desire
To banish Vice impure, as spells, from earth;
An air, as seen in one of heavenly bini,
Mildly benevolent, and often praised;

Grace, when the sate, or when she stood, in al

That doubt, which Memory can recall,

What winning posture most enchanted, raised,
Possess'd of arms thus victory to insure,

Thou madest me yield; but I am now secure.

O'er other souls Heaven gave thee power, to change
The object of their love in many ways;
Mine, of a different mould, obeys

Another law, Heaven's varied works to show.
Yet howe'er gain'd, no joy does Freedom raise;
But sad, I say, "O wont this region strange,
"Thy blissful mansion left, to range,

"What doom, pure spirit, plunging us in woe,
Untimely call'd thee from the world below,
"Making regret arise from what we saw
"Of lofty Virtue, never equall'd yet?"—
I may not, Love, to thee submit,

Nor fear thy vengeance on my head to draw.

Thy bow thus strain'd, to pierce me vainly tries; My safety's signal were her closing eyes.

Death has absolved me from thy laws,

O Love, since, for her heavenly dwelling, she

I mourn has left me sad and free.

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