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Above all law is might
Ev'ry grave's the same
Favours, when conferred with sullen air, But little gratify
Historick writ
No folly greater than to heighten pain
No grief so great, but what may be subdued
Of't what we would not, we're obliged to do
Removed from sight, but few for lovers grieve
The eyes:—Soul-speaking language, nothing can disguise
The god of love and wisdom ne'er agree
Tis all the same:—'twill never make me grieve
Tis past our pow'r to live on love or air
You little dream for whom you guard the store