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Maria, my love! Do you long for the grove?

Do you figh for an interview soon?

Does e'er a kind thought run on me as you rove Alone by the light of the Moon?

Your name from the shepherds whenever I hear

My bosom is all in a glow;

Your voice when it vibrates so sweet thro' mine ear,

My heart thrills my eyes overflow.

Ye Powers of the Sky, will your bounty divine Indulge a fond lover his boon?

Shall heart spring to heart, and Maria be mine, Alone by the light of the Moon?

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N vain I court till dawning light

The coy Divinity of night;

Restlefs from fide to fide I turn,

Arife, ye mufings of the Morn!

Oh, Sleep! tho' banish'd from those eyes,

In visions fair to Delia rife;

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And o'er a dearer form diffufe

Thy healing balm thy lenient dews.

Bleft be her night as infants reft,

Lull'd on the fond maternal breaft,
Who fweetly-playful smiles in fleep,
Nor knows that he is born to weep.

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Remove the terrors of the night,

The phantom-forms of wild affright,

The shrieks from precipice or flood,

And starting scene that swims with blood.

Lead her aloft to blooming bowers,

And beds of amaranthine flowers,

And golden skies, and glittering streams,

That paint the paradife of dreams.

Venus! present a lover near,

And gently whisper in her ear

His woes, who, lonely and forlorn,

Counts the flow clock from night till morn.

Ah! let no portion of my pain,

Save just a tender trace, remain;

Afleep consenting to be kind,

And wake with Daphnis in her mind.

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ARIA bright with beauty's glow,
In confcious gaiety you go

The pride of all the Park:

Attracted groupes in filence gaze,
And foft behind you hear the praife
And whisper of the spark.

In Fancy's airy chariot whirl'd,

You make the circle of the world,

And dance a dizzy round;

The maids and kindling youths behold
You triumph o'er the envious Old,

The Queen of Beauty crown'd.

Where'er

Where'er the beams of Fortune blaze,

Or Fashion's whispering zephyr plays,

The infect tribe attends;

Gay-glittering thro' a Summer's day, The filken myriads melt away

Before a Sun descends.

Divorced from elegant delight,

The vulgar Venus holds her night

An alien to the skies;

Her bosom breathes no finer fire,

No radiance of divine defire

Illumes responsive eyes.

Gods! shall a fordid son of earth

Enfold a form of heavenly birth,
And ravish joys divine?
An angel bless unconscious arms?
The circle of furrendered charms

Unhallowed hands entwine?

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