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Rh But not on thee, so lovely born,

Formed of a power divine,

To hold ev'n fate a subject sworn

To every will of thine.

Whilst thou my absence mayst lament,

Thy comfort mayst descry,

By fate a thousand lovers sent

More to thy choice than I.

Some one she pleases me above

To favour chance may show;

But one to love thee as I love,

That none can ever know.

'T was not thy graces won my heart,

Nor yet thy faultless face;

But 't was some sympathy apart

I might from birth retrace.

I long a picture loved to draw

Of charms I fancied true,

And thy perfections when I saw,

The original I knew.

No traveller upon the ground

By sudden lightning thrown,

The blow could more at once confound,

Left helpless and alone,