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Oh could my Mind, unfolded in my page,
Enlighten climes and mould a future age!
There as it glow'd, with noblest frenzy fraught,
Dispense the treasures of exalted thought;
To Virtue wake the pulses of the heart,
And bid the tear of Emulation ftart!
Oh could it ftill, thro' each succeeding year,
My life, my manners, and my name endear;
And, when the poet sleeps in filent duft,
When thro' the world it steals its secret course,
Revive but once a generous wish suppreft,
Chase but a figh, or charm a care to rest;
in one good deed a fleeting hour employ,
Or flush one faded cheek with honeft joy;
Bleft were my lines, tho' limited their sphere,
Tho' short their date, as his who trac'd them here.