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Haply some hoary-headed Swain may say,

«Oft have we seen him at the

peep

of dawn

· Brushing with hasty steps the dews away

• To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.

• There at the foot of yonder nodding beech
• That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high,

• His listless length at noontide would he stretch,

. And pore upon the brook that babbles by.

• Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn,

• Mutt'ring his wayward fancies he would rove,

Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn,

Or craz'd with care, or cross’d in hopeless love.

One

One morn I miss’d him on the custom'd hill,

Along the heath and near his fav’rite tree;

Another came ; nor yet beside the rill,

"Nor up

the lawn, nor at the wood was he ;

The next with dirges due in fad array

*Slow thro' the church-way path we saw him born.

Approach and read (for thou can'st read) the lay,

• Gray'd on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.

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Large was his bounty, and his foul fincere,

Heav'n did a recompence as largely send :

- He gave to Mis’ry all be had, a tear,

He gain'd from Heav’n ('twas all he wish'd) a friend.

No farther seek his merits to disclose,

Or draw his frailties from their dread abode,

(* There they alike in trembling hope repose,)

The bofom of his Father and his God.

-paventosa speme.

Petrarch. Son. 114.

5

Τ Η Ε

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