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Mary Darby Robinson - Sonnet XXIX: Farewell, Ye Tow`ring CedarsMary Darby Robinson - Sonnet XXIX: Farewell, Ye Tow`ring Cedars
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Farewell, ye tow`ring Cedars, in whose shade, Lull`d by the Nightingale, I sunk to rest, While spicy breezes hover`d o`er my breast To fan my cheek, in deep`ning tints array`d; While am`rous insects, humming round me, play`d, Each flow`r forsook, of prouder sweets in quest; Of glowing lips, in humid fragrance drest, That mock`d the Sunny Hybla`s vaunted aid! Farewell, ye limpid rivers! Oh! farewell! No more shall Sappho to your grots repair; No more your white waves to her bosom swell, Or your dank weeds, entwine her floating hair; As erst, when Venus in her sparry cell Wept, to behold a brighter goddess there!
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