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20
LIMITS
Ah, Ladies, that some fairy band
Would turn a barren offering
Of thanks into a richer thing!
The cunning of an artist's hand,
The tuneful harp to sing,—
Would turn a barren offering
Of thanks into a richer thing!
The cunning of an artist's hand,
The tuneful harp to sing,—
These are not mine, nor mine the power
In graceful phrase, with studied art,
To tell how in a saddened hour,
As rain upon a thirsty flower,
Kind wishes cheer the heart.
In graceful phrase, with studied art,
To tell how in a saddened hour,
As rain upon a thirsty flower,
Kind wishes cheer the heart.
Alas, dear friends! could we but train
Upon a furrowed legal brow
The Muse's sacred laurel bough—
Ah, then I might not strive in vain
(Beating an irresponsive brain)
To waft in fitting measures now
The breath of kindness back again!
Upon a furrowed legal brow
The Muse's sacred laurel bough—
Ah, then I might not strive in vain
(Beating an irresponsive brain)
To waft in fitting measures now
The breath of kindness back again!
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