Happy The Feeling From The Bosom Thrown In Perfect Shape (Whose Beauty Time Shall Spare Though A Breath Made It) Like A Bubble Blown For Summer Pastime Into Wanton Air; Happy The Thought Best Likened To A Stone Of The Sea-Beach, When, Polished With Nice Care, Veins It Discovers Exquisite And Rare, Which For The Loss Of That Moist Gleam Atone That Tempted First To Gather It. That Here, O Chief Of Friends! Such Feelings I Present, To Thy Regard, With Thoughts So Fortunate, Were A Vain Notion; But The Hope Is Dear, That Thou, If Not With Partial Joy Elate, Wilt Smile Upon This Gift With More Than Mild Content!
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