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1721–1770

ODE XIV.

Mark Akenside

Away! away! Tempt me no more, insidious love: Thy soothing sway Long did my youthful bosom prove:

At length thy treason is discern'd, At length some dear-bought caution earn'd: Away! nor hope my riper age to move. I know, I see

Her merit. Needs it now be shown, Alas, to me? How often, to myself unknown, The graceful, gentle, virtuous maid

Have I admired! How often said, What joy to call a heart like hers one's own! But, flattering god, O squanderer of content and ease,

In thy abode Will care's rude lesson learn to please? O say, deceiver, hast thou won Proud Fortune to attend thy throne,

Or placed thy friends above her stern decrees?

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ODE XIV. · Mark Akenside · Poetry Cove