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35762A

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О could my mind, unfolded in my page,
Enlighten climes and mould a future age;
There as it glowed, with noblest frenzy fraught,
Dispense the treasures of exalted thought;

To Virtue wake the pulses of the heart,
And bid the tear of emulation start!

Oh could it still, thro' each succeeding year,
My life, my manners, and my name endear;
And, when the poet sleeps in silent dust,
Still hold communion with the wise and just!-

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