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46
To my BROTHER, whilst he was in France.
Dear Brother, So far as you advanceYour knowledge, by your Journey into France;
So far and more I'm sure I backward go,
For I can't say As in præsenti now;
Nor ever shall (I am so much concern'd
For your dear safety) whilst you are return'd.
Nothing at present wonted pleasure yields,
The Birds nor Bushes, or the gaudy Fields;
Nor Osier holts, nor Flow'ry banks of Glen;
Nor the soft Meadow-grass seem Plush, as when
We us'd to walk together kindly here,
And think each blade of Corn a Gem did bear.
Instead of this, and thy Philosophy,
Nought but my own false Latin now I see;
False Verse, or Lovers falsest of the three:
Ev'n thoughts of formor happiness augment
My Griefs, and are my present punishment;
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Find adverse Fate hard to dispence withall.
Had Devils never Heaven seen,
Their Hell a smaller Curse had been.
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