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To Laura, walking in the Rain.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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124

To Laura, walking in the Rain.

See, lovely unrelenting Laura, see,
The very Heavens bewail your Cruelty!
The sobbing Breezes to my Grief reply,
Weep to my Tears, and to my Murmurs sigh:
In-animate, my Pity they regard,
And mourn a Nymph so soft, and yet so hard!
But wretched Swain for ever now despair,
Nor fondly hope to melt the cruel Fair;
For how should Mortal's Sighs and Tears prevail,
When even thus the Gods themselves can fail!