| When first Apollo got my brain with childe |
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| Poor vaunting earth, gloss'd with uncertain pride |
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| Heavens bright lamp, shine forth some of thy light |
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| Trafique Is Earth's Great Atlas |
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| 'Tis said the Gods lower down that chain above |
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| Lines on a Purple Cap Received as a Present from My Brother |
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| Be just unto them |
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| Could'st thou live thus obscure, and now |
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