Laura Sophia Temple

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Fair Lady, why that sadden'd eye,
And why that pale and quiv'ring lip?
But late I mark'd its vivid die,
And thought the Gods its dew might sip.

And why that blanch'd dejected cheek,
Whence Spring so late her roses hung;
Why do my glances vainly seek,
The grace that dwelt thy smiles among?

Alas ! that eye, that languid eye
Was wont to dart enam'ring fire;
Oft have I seen its sparkles fly,
To bid a wond'ring world admire.

Say, is it Love that dims its ray,
That veils in gloom its world of light?
Say, is it Passion's tyrant sway,
That shrouds each dazzling beam in night?

Or has thy gentle, trusting breast,
Believed the smile that Friendship wore;
Oh ! hast thou lull'd each doubt to rest,
Till Reason bade thee doubt no more.

If Love it be that wakes the sigh,
And banishes thy bosom's calm!
If Love it be that fades thine eye,
And bids his wand thy smiles disarm;--

Break, break the spell,--the silken chain
That holds thy weak and passive mind;
Throw off thy bonds with proud disdain,
And leave thy fears and griefs behind.

And Friendship--oh! the empty name!
Learn to distrust her blandest smile,
Think that it "follows Wealth and Fame,"
And flatters only to beguile.

Then Lady shall thy languid eye,
Again dart forth enam'ring fire,
Then shall its sparkles gaily fly,
To bid a wond'ring world admire

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