Song LXXI., p.323.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

BLest as th’ immortal Gods is he, 

The youth who fondly sits by thee, 

And hears and sees thee all the while, 

Softly speak and sweetly smile. 

– 

‘Twas this bereav’d my soul of rest, 

And rais’d such tumults in my breast; 

For while I gaz’d in transport tost, 

My breath was gone, my voice was lost. 

– 

My bosom glow’d; the subtile flame 

Ran quick thro’ all my vital frame; 

O’er my dim eyes a darkness hung, 

My ears with hollow murmures rung. 

– 

In dewy damps my limbs were chill’d, 

My blood with gentle horrors thrill’d, 

My feeble pulse forgot to play, 

I fainted, sunk, and dy’d away. 

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