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It is an awful thing how we forget The sacred ties that bind us each to each. Our pleasures might admonish us, and say, Tremble at that delight which is unshared; Its selfishness must be its punishment. All have their sorrows, and how strange it seems They do not soften more the general heart: Sorrows should be those universal links That draw all life together.

" is of no use asking me to stay," said Lavinia to the manager: "you know that I never do any thing but what I choose!" "You need not tell me that," interrupted the other; "but, if you had any sense, you would choose to do what I ask. I have