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Amasia, or, The Works of the Muses

A Collection of Poems. In Three Volumes. By Mr John Hopkins

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To Amasia, Dancing before a Looking-Glass.

Thus you in Num'rous measures sport, and play,
Like the Sun dancing to it's Glass, the Sea.
Strange! how you move in Air! if I have Eyes,
If I have any Sense the fleet Amasia flies.
All here subdu'd, your Glances now are hurl'd,
To raise new Trophies in this Chrystal World,
The fam'd Pellæan Conqu'rour bravely won
All lands, and Seas by his bold Arms o'erun.
The Spacious Globe he triumph'd nobly o'er,
But, that suffic'd not, and he wept for more.
Here, in this Icy Ocean he might view,
What yet no Mortal Conqu'rour could subdue,
Here he had wept again, o'ercome by you.

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A triumph here had added vastly more,
To his loud Fame, than the whole World before.
O'er all the Earth his spreading Laurels grew,
But, were Amasia won, Heav'n had been Conquer'd too.