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Poem by Mary Robinson
SLOW the limpid currents twining, Brawl along the lonely dell, ’Till in one wild stream combining, Nought its rapid course can quell; So at first LOVE’S poisons stealing, Round the heart unheeded play, While we hope our pangs concealing, Vainly hope to check his sway. If amidst the glassy river Aught impedes its placid course, Ah ! it glides more swift than ever, While opposing gives it force; So when HOPE and PASSION blending, Warm the feeble trembling frame; REASON sickens by contending, Fanning only feeds the flame.
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