They droop'd: as flowers when blighted bow,
The dire infection came.—They died,
And I was cursed—as I am now.—
Nay, frown not, angry friend—allow
That I was deeply, sorely tried;
Hear then, and you must wonder how
I could such storms and strifes abide.
Storms!—not that clouds embattled make,
When they afflict this earthly globe;
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