Fragmentary Ending Of A Poem I
To the kind powr who taught me how to sing
Thus with the first of all wch he bestowd
Did ancient piety approach the God.
Defended long by prejudice & pride
Ive fancyd love a cant its god defyd
but bravely you assert yr monarchs reign
wound with a look & wth a word inchain
I feel th' enchanting pain wth pleasure bow
& surely fair Aminta none but you
Can slav'ry give yet make it lovely too
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