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A moment, and the group were press'd aside, She stood before and his bride. He knew her history, and each met prepared; Cold looks were given, careless converse shared: At first shunn'd to meet her eye,— A moment's awkwardness,—but that pass'd by. How much we give to other hearts our tone, And judge of others' feelings by our own! Himself was alter'd:—all he sought to do Was to believe that she was alter'd too. Her cheek was paler than 'twas wont to be,— That was its round of midnight gaiety: Her smile less frequent, and her brow more grave,— 'Twas her new rank its stateliness that gave: New friends press'd round,—their interview is o'er,— And he pass'd on, to think of it no more;