Or passing chimes, but warn'd me of the tomb!
O! if you blast, at once consume my bays,
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And damn me not with mutilated praise.
With candour judge; and, a young bard in view.
Allow for that, and judge with kindness too.
Faults he must own, though hard for him to find,
Not to some happier merits quite so blind;
These if mistaken Fancy only sees,
Or Hope, that takes Deformity for these;