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from scenes, where the o'erwearied mind Shrinks from the crimes and follies of mankind, From hostile menace, and offensive boast, Peace, and her train of home-born pleasures lost; To fancy's reign, who would not gladly turn, And lose awhile, the miseries they mourn In sweet oblivion? Come then, Fancy! deign, Queen of ideal pleasure, once again, To lend thy magic pencil, and to bring Such lovely forms, as in life's happier spring,