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Ah! ays the Wizard, what may now availe His manlie ene that fairet blooms bore, His temper gentle as the whipering gale, His native goodnee, and his vertuous lore! Now through his veins, all uninflamd before, Th' enchanted cup of Diipation hight Has hedd, with ubtil tealth, through everie pore, Its giddy poion, brewd with magicke might, Each budd of gentle worth and better thought to blight.

So the Canadian, train'd in drery wates To chace the foming bore and fallow deer, At firt the trader's beverage hylie tates; But oon with headlong rage, unfelt whyleare, Inflamd he luts for the delirious cheer: So burts the Boy didainful of retrent Headlong attonce into the wylde career Of jollitie, with all his mind unbent, And dull and yrksome hangs the day in ports unpent.