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162 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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Vile and ingrate ! too late thou shalt repent The base injustice thou hast done my love : Yes, thou shalt know, spite of thy past distress, And all those ills which thou so long hast mourned; Heav'n has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned. |
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Seest thou how just the hand of heav'n has been ? Let us, who through our innocence survive, Still in the paths of honour persevere, And not from past or present ills despair; For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds; And though a late, a sure reward succeeds. |
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