The Mirrour

WHERE are the passions of the amorous heart?
And where the hopes Ambition could impart?
Mine is no more the Lover's golden chain,
Or mine the envy'd ranks in Glory's train.

Since Love and Pride were parted from the mind,
Repenting Wisdom looks with Shame behind;
And Folly's glass , that Youth could once engage,
Is now a Mirrour in the hands of Age.
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