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Oh Lady! ne'er these lips again,
May lisp that precious name -
Whate'er my fortune might have been,
On thee, I've now, no claim.

Yes fare thee well! no more we meet -
May pleasure hover o'er thee!
This heart though pierced, can ne'er forget,
To love thee - to adore thee.
JULIAN.
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Likeness
Ye are alike! and yet 'twere twain,
To say what likeness I discover;
For that which seems to me so plain
Was never seen by any other.

'Tis not in figure, voice, or face;
In no one feature can I place it;
It dwells in no peculiar grace,
And yet how plainly I can trace it!

I trace it in the transient smile,
That ever-varying quick expression;
Yet, as I look, 'tis gone the while,
And I alone retain the impression.
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