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My Wish.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

My Wish.

What grateful Pleasures fill my rising Veins?
What Agonies of Bliss my Soul contains?
Where shall I fly to snatch some sacred Fire,
T' allay the Fury of my warm Desire?
I see that wish'd for Star in whose bright Rays,
Fain would I bask, and wanton out my Days;

80

As deep as Hannibal, I swear I'm he
Who'll never make a peace in love with thee:
But if I might my pleasing Thoughts reveal,
Like wanton Jove into thy Lap I'd steal;
On thy Transporting pleasures I would ly,
And in those Raptures the whole World outvy;
Life's a dull sottish thing if this be took away,
Let me die ev'ry Night, as I live ev'ry Day.