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[Sometimes, in bitter fancy, I bewail]
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


423

[Sometimes, in bitter fancy, I bewail]

Sometimes, in bitter fancy, I bewail
This spell of love, and wish the cause removed;
Wish I had never seen, or, seeing, not loved
So utterly that passion should prevail
O'er self-regard, and thoughts of thee assail
Those inmost barriers which so long have proved
Unconquerable, when such defence behoved.
But, ah! my treacherous heart doth ever fail
To ratify the sentence of my mind;
For when conviction strikes me to the core,
I swear I love thee fondlier than before;
And were I now all free and unconfined,
Loose as the action of the shoreless wind,
My slavish heart would sigh for bonds once more.