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1780–1832

SONNET.

Thomas Gent

Blest be the hour that gave my Lydia birth, The day be sacred‘ mid each varying year; How oft the name recalls thy spotless worth, And joys departed, still to memory dear!

If matchless friendship, constancy, and love, Have power to charm, or one sad grief beguile. ‘ Tis thine the gloom of sorrow to remove, And on that tearful cheek imprint a smile.

May every after season to thee bring New joys; to cheer life's dark eventful way, ‘ Till time shall close thee in his pond'rous wing, And angels waft thee to eternal day!

Lov'd maid, farewel! thy name this heart shall fill ‘ Till memory sinks, and all its griefs are still!

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