 | By The Way |  |
11
[Who that, even in a dream]
Who that, even in a dream,Has felt pure love's ethereal beam
Enkindle feelings for his heart
To treasure up and set apart,
Encasketted with jealous fear,
Most pure, most delicate, most dear,
More strictly kept than miser's pelf
And seldom conn'd ev'n by himself—
Would wish to have his hoarded thought
Into vulgar parley brought?
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