TO JULIA.

Mock me no more with Love's beguiling dream,

  A dream, I find, illusory as sweet:

One smile of friendship, nay, of cold esteem,

  Far dearer were than passion's bland deceit!

I've heard you oft eternal truth declare;

  Your heart was only mine, I once believed.

Ah! shall I say that all your vows were air?

  And must I say, my hopes were all deceived?

Vow, then, no longer that our souls are twined

  That all our joys are felt with mutual zeal;

Julia!—'tis pity, pity makes you kind;

  You know I love, and you would seem to feel.

But shall I still go seek within those arms

  A joy in which affection takes no part?

No, no, farewell! you give me but your charms,

  When I had fondly thought you gave your heart.

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