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Geraldi Sforza; from his searching eye I turn abashed; our free uncumbered speech, Where thought met thought, and every wish appeared, Seems cramped and circumscribed. Thou art my world! And whilst I hear thee speak, and see thee smile In fond approval, my devoted soul Is rapt in bliss. Oh Julian! Julian! It is not thus thou lov'st me—every day I bend my knee in impious mockery Before my father, kiss his hallowed brow With treason on my lips, and force my tongue To utter hollow words, mere sounding air.— My heart subdued, not hardened by my love, Weeps o'er its filial disobedience, yet I would not be restored to that sweet state Of innocence that blessed my youth; 'tis joy Even to suffer for thee, so entire And perfect is my love.—Veronica,