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Rh But a stately warrior came from afar; He bore on his bosom the glorious scar,$$\Bigg\}$$ So worshipped by women—the death-seal of war. And the maiden's heart was an easy prize, When valour and faith were her sacrifice. Methinks, might that sweet season last, In which our first love-dream is past; Ere doubts and cares, and jealous pain, Are flaws in the heart's diamond-chain;— Men might forget to think on Heaven, And yet have the sweet sin forgiven. But ere the marriage feast was spread, said that he must brook