And Cælia breathe to echoing groves her pain?
Must Chloe hope in vain to steel that heart
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In which each nymph would gladly share a part?
Must these, dejected shepherd, be betray'd.
And victims fall, because Cordelia's dead?
T. By those who love, my friend, it stands confest,
No second flame can fill a lover's breast:
For me no more the idle scenes of life
Shall vex with envy, hatred, noise, or strife;