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“ In vain Cephisus sighs to save
“The swain that loves his watry mead, “And weeps to see his reddening wave,
“And mourns for his perverted Reed:
“In vain my violated groves
“ Must I with equal grief bewail, “ While desolation sternly roves,
“And bids the sanguine hand assail.
“ God of the genial stream, behold
“My laurel shades of leaves so bare! “Those leaves no poet's brows enfold,
“Nor bind APOLLO's golden hair.
" Like thy fair offspring, misapplied,
“ Far other purpose they supply; “The murderer's burning cheek to hide,
“And on his frownful temples die.
“ Yet deem not these of Pluto's race,
“ Whom wounded NATURE sues in vain; “ Pluto disclaims the dire disgrace,
“ And cries, indignant, “ They are men.”
As Dee, whose current free from stain,
Darts swiftly through the stagnant mass,
But ah! they will not, will not last