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'Tis sweet, in seclusion, to look on the past,
In life's sober twilight recal the day-dream;
To mark the smooth sunshine, and skies overcast,
That chequered our course as we moved down the


For Othere's a charm in retracing the morn
When the star of our pleasure beamed brightly awhile,
And the tear that in infancy watered the thorn,
By the magic of memory is changed to a smile.

How faint is the touch, no perspective bestowing,
Nor scenery in nature's true colours arrayed;
How chaste is the landscape, how vividly glowing,
Where the warm tint of fancy is mellowed by shade!

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