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14 Though icy cold by day it ran, Yet still, like souls of mirth, began
 * To burn when night was near:

And thus, should woman's heart and looks At noon be cold as winter brooks, Nor kindle till the night, returning, Brings their genial hour for burning.
 * Oh! stay,— Oh! stay,—

When did morning ever break, And find such beaming eyes awake
 * As those that sparkle here!