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of a music glass, And as I saw the early robin pass, To hear him thro' his little compass run-- Hath been a joy that I shall no more know Before I to my better portion go. SONNET. Exquisite Laura! with thy pouting lip, And the arch smile that makes me constant so-- Tempting me still like a dull bee to sip The flower I should have left so long ago-- Beautiful Laura! who art just so fair That I can think thee lovely when alone, And still art not so wonderfully rare That I could never find a prettier one-- Spirited Laura! laughing, weeping, crying In the same breath, and gravest with the gay-- So wild, that Cupid ever shoots thee flying, And knows his archery is thrown away-- Inconstant as I am, I cannot yet Break thy sweet fetter, exquisite coquette! SONNET. There was a beautiful spirit in her air, As of a fay at revel. Hidden springs, Too delicate for knowledge, should be there, Moving her gently like invisible wings; And then her lip out-blushing the red fruit That bursts with ripeness in the Autumn time, And the arch eye you would not swear was mute, And the clear cheek, as of a purer clime, And the low tone, soft as a pleasant flute Sent over water with the vesper chime; And then her forehead with its loose, dark curl, And the bewildering smile that made her mouth Like a torn rose-leaf moistened of the South-- She has an angel's gifts--the radiant girl! ANDRE'S REQUEST. It is not the fear of death That damps my brow; It is not for another breath I ask thee now; I can die with a lip unstirr'd And a quiet heart-- Let but this prayer be heard Ere I depart. I can give up my mother's look-- My sister's kiss; I can think of love--yet brook A death like this! I can give up the young fame I burn'd to win-- All--but the spotless name I glory in! Thine is the power to give, Thine to deny, Joy for the hour I live-- Calmness to die. By all the brave should cherish, By my dying breath, I ask that I may perish With a soldier's death! DISCRIMINATION. I used to love a radiant girl-- Her lips were like a rose leaf torn; Her he
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