Page:Poems By Chauncy Hare Townshend.djvu/333

 SOmqFFS. 323 xxlx. ON THE ])PATH 017 'THE PRINCESS CHARLOttE. W.sP not for her, whose spirit pure is flown Where the lost fruits of happy F, den grow, Who, on tfis feverish dream of joy and woe, Now with an Angel's pitying eye looks' down r' Snatoh'd from the thousand tyrant-ills, that frown Dark on each chequer'd !or of life below, And ever most their baleful gi bestow' Within the glittering circle of a crown. But, oh, for him, whose sun of perfect bliss, Bright as it rose, in efivious clouds grew dim ;' Whose nectar'd cup of sparkling happiness ' ! Was dash'd away, when manfling to the b. rim, Seek not the generous sorrow to repress; . Shed PitT's truest, tenderest tear for him !

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