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125
LINES.
[Give me the lyre my Gracia held so dear]
Give me the lyre my Gracia held so dear,And let me wake the lay that, once, to hear
She bent so tenderly, and lov'd so much;
Then place beside the harp she us'd to touch.
And, while to mine in soft response it rings,
I'll think that still again she sweeps its strings;
The dear deceit will cheat me of my pain,
And, in a sound, I'll live o'er life again!
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