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48 Then Romeo's tale I sometimes told, And gentle Hinda oft have sought. But most with hapless Petrarch rolled The strain that aids the wooer naught. Not satisfied, you still pursue, You haunt my pathways and my home; Then if you must this soul subdue, First yield this prayer wherewith I come

Grant that the maid who leads my heart May all thy richest gifts enjoy; Nathless my vows no joy impart. May Chloris' bliss meet no alloy.

Grant that the aged may blessings shower; Grant that the young may guard from ill; While maidens, curbed fell envy's power, May own her charms the brightest still.

Grant her amid the good to shine; Grant her each earthly bliss to share; And make, O Love! for thou'rt divine— Oh! make her Heaven's darling care!