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n8 THE GOLDEN TREASVRT OF |
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Alas ! Matilda then was true ! At least I thought so at the U — —niversity of Gottingen, —niversity of Gottingen.
Barbs ! barbs ! alas ! how swift you flew,
Her neat post-wagon trotting in ! Ye bore Matilda from my view ; Forlorn I languished at the U — —niversity of Gottingen, —niversity of Gottingen.
This faded form ! this pallid hue !
This blood my veins is clotting in ! My years are many—they were few When first I entered at the U — —niversity of Gottingen, —niversity of Gottingen.
There first for thee my passion grew,
Sweet, sweet Matilda Pottingen ! Thou wast the daughter of my tutor, law professor at the U — —niversity of Gottingen, —niversity of Gottingen.
1 Sun, moon, and thou, vain world, adieu! That kings and priests are plotting in: Here doomed to starve on water gruel, never shall I see the U— —niversity of Gottingen, —niversity of Gottingen. |
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This verse is said, to have been added by the younger Pitt. |
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