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FRAGMENT.

her amid pleasure's gayest haunts— Her black hair bound with roses, which grew pale By the vermilion of the cheek's rich dye; And when she mov'd, those ebon tresses wav'd Upon the air, as love's wing had just past And fann'd them: such a lip of sweets and smiles Young Hebe wore, when treading 'mid the stars, Herself a fairer one, she held the cup Of sparkling nectar. She was, 'mid the gay, The gayest of the throng; in her dark eye,