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Written at Twilight

Dearly I love meek twilight's soften'd shade -
It suits my heart, by various cares opprest,
And as amidst the gloom the objects fade, 
Steals a soft langour through my pensive breast.

Tis silent contemplation's favorite hour,
And as I view yon Heaven's blue shadowy dome,
I give the reins to sad reflection's power,
And think of [[underlined]] pleasure's past, and griefs to [[underlined]] come.

Indulging [[underlined]] thus reflection's mournful sway,
My every feeling is attun'd to woe;
Yet do I love this hour of closing day,
And prize the tears that sadly, silent flow.
Yet cease, my heart, from such delights forbear,
For 'tis reflection drives thee to despair.
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Ah throbbing heart! thee I implore,
Less wildly throb - or throb no more!
Oh foolish wish!  Still let it wildly beat,
The long oblivion it will bring, is sweet;
The silent grave will shelter the distrest;
Throb, wilder throb, poor heart and let me be at rest!
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