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LINES ADDRESSED TO MISS BISSET.

it not like enchantment on the soul, Chaining the very life pulse with delight! Each feeling lost in one delicious dream, All hush'd in that deep harmony. If yet This earth can boast a trace of Paradise, One relic of its former state, 'tis that Which yet survives in music's hallow'd sigh. If ever that sweet spirit, whose rich breath,