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Mary Darby Robinson - To CesarioMary Darby Robinson - To Cesario
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CESARIO, thy Lyre`s dulcet measure,  So sweetly, so tenderly flows; That could my sad soul taste of pleasure,  Thy music would soften its woes. But ah, gentle soother, where anguish  Takes root in the grief-stricken heart; `Tis the triumph of sorrow to languish,  `Tis rapture to cherish the smart. The mind where pale Mis`ry sits brooding,  Repels the soft touch of repose; Shrinks back when blest Reason intruding,  The balm of mild comfort bestows. There is luxury oft in declining,  What pity`s kind motives impart; And to bear hapless fate, unrepining,  Is the proudest delight of the heart. Still, still shall thy Lyre`s gentle measure,  In strains of pure melody flow; While each heart beats with exquisite pleasure,  SAVE MINE­the doom`d VICTIM OF WOE.
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