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XIV. But oh! there was a dearer hope Nurst in that gentle strain, He turned to meet one worshipped eye, He sought, and sought in vain.

XV. The heavy dew came o'er his brow, His flashing eye grew dim, He felt the vanity of song, And oh! I felt with him.

XVI. For love and song have been the same From early youth to me; And withered feelings, blighted hope, May tell what they can be.

XVII. I am still young in time, but I Have lived through wasting years Of sleepless nights, of anxious days, Of heart-burnings and tears.

XVIII. 'Tis a charmed destiny—tho' well I know the wearying chain, I cannot even wish to be Free as I was again.