179r [=139r]

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179

On leaving East Lodge Augt 1802

In absence often shall the grateful thought
Hover around these fair, and friendly Bowers,
Oft call back Converse sweet, with friendship fraught
And Confidence that charmed the fleeting hours.-

Oft in yon winding paths with her I stray'd
Whose gentle hand has dried my tears of Woe
Whose warming Voice Despairs rash progress stay'd
And in the House of Death true comfort know

Friends of my Youth! Pride of maturer age!
Blest be your Mansion the abode of Peace
May Hope and Love your future hours engage
And Time th'anticipated joy increase.-

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