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 wanting! For my part, I had no eyes but for the charming Zoe, who has never more appeared. Meanwhile I preerve the ring in my box, as an holy relic, and in my heart the memory of my tender affection, as a acred depoit. Where I found the packet I have planted roes and lilies, lovage and forget-me-not. In the deceitful hope of the return of my beloved mitres, time has bowed me towards the earth, and ploughed deep furrows in my forehead. Yet the arrival of the wans, by reminding me of the adventure of my youth, and the pleaantet dream of my life, till affords me pleaure. Whenever I now cat a erious look upon the pat, from the margin of my earthly pilgrimage, I feel an uncomfortable enation at having quandered away my life, as a pendthrift his riches, without fruit or enjoyment. It is gone like the viion of a long winter’s night, to which the fancy till clings with fondnes, and which when you awake leaves fatigue rather than refrehment