Page:Poems By Chauncy Hare Townshend.djvu/210

 [0. MISCHLLANEOUS POEMS. Yes, it is gone ! 3he sweent sounds'die first, A  flowers de nt ;. Bu oh ] an, ha,  tuner y plve v,  leholy nC Oh, what a no wa e, Lown as Ps h  Yet must I  ee  r, T dply st thou me my spy l Pr'y, no more, or my full' h ! bur  For ou dost bring, fom my sing eye, A sisr, sh'd upon her couch to die; Ev'n us her life did ebb, d ebb away, In so and slow decay; And now her fnt b swell'd rare aubly en  ew silen It was over [ ed W her p spit--lt  I w dead  W. B. 1816. THE PROPHECY. WZ-COMS to my magic cell, Stranger, 'enter; I can tell ......... Google

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