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Within the compass of domestic Walls:
| 1
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To those small Limits be thy Views confined,
| 2
|
And bless thy Cottage with an humble Mind.
| 1
|
Look not at Joys that dazzle from afar,
| 1
|
For all Degrees their Days of Anguish know,
| 0
|
And the most happy have a taste of Woe:
| 1
|
He swells the Load who murmurs and complains:
| 1
|
For all things vary: And who sits to day
| 2
|
Her grateful tribute of harsh numbers brings
| 2
|
Nor all the beauties of the world's vast round
| 2
|
United, will as sweet as her be found.
| 2
|
Her worth alone will deify my days.
| 0
|
Enchanting creature! Charms so great as thine
| 0
|
May all the beauties of the day outshine.
| 2
|
Thy taking graces captivate the heart.
| 0
|
OH for a Muse that shall ascend the skies,
| 0
|
To sing the sparkling eye, the portly grace,
| 0
|
The thousand beauties that adorn the face
| 0
|
Might court the world to rush at once to arms.
| 0
|
While the fair Goddess, native of the skies,
| 3
|
OH now, whilst yet I sound the tuneful lyre,
| 1
|
I feel the thrilling joy her hands inspire;
| 0
|
And rolls my passions with the purple flood.
| 1
|
My pulse beat high: my throbbing breast's on fire
| 1
|
In sad variety of wild desire.
| 1
|
Words are too weak thy mighty worth to paint;
| 3
|
Thou art my substance, and I am thy shade.
| 2
|
Possessed of thee, I joyfully would go
| 2
|
Through the loud tempest, and the depth of woe.
| 3
|
From thee alone my being I derive,
| 2
|
Since hired for Life, thy Servile Muse must sing
| 2
|
Successive Conquests, and a glorious King;
| 4
|
Must of a Man Immortal vainly boast;
| 0
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And bring him Laurels, whatsoever they cost:
| 2
|
What Turn wilt Thou employ, what Colours lay
| 2
|
On the Event of that Superior Day,
| 3
|
In which one English Subject's prosperous Hand
| 2
|
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