Status: Complete


Excluded from my native soil
To tread the southern plain
I shall return again
O why thus partial, I would know
The secrets of my heart?
What in the Northern climes doth grow
From which I'm pained to part?
My heart replies with candor plain
I therefore credit give!
"A mountain Nymph my peace has slain,"
"How can I do to live
Let reason now here seat assume
As counsil in this case
Or arbiter to tell my doom
Respecting time and place
The voice of reason thus dictates
If cupid has once more,
Found access through the iron gate
And dipt his shaft in gore,
I well may loose a drop or two
Before that polished shrine
Since such an hero's done to few
To claim the priv'lige thine.

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