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Poems upon several Occasions.
31
To MYRA. SONG.
I'LL tell her the next time, said I:
In vain! in vain! for when I try,
Upon my timorous Tongue the trembling Accents die.
Alas! a thousand thousand Fears
Still over-awe when she appears,
My Breath is spent in Sighs, my Eyes are drown'd in Tears.
To Myra. Loving at first Sight.
I.
NO warning, of th' approaching Flame,
Swiftly like sudden Death it came,
Like Travellers by Light'ning kill'd,
I burnt the Moment I beheld.
II.
Is with a Mind as noble grac'd;
The Case, so shining to behold,
Is fill'd with richest Gems and Gold.
III.
I add a thousand Graces more;
C 4
And