Part 19

We think we lose when we most gain; We call joys ended ere begun; When stars fade out do skies complain, Or glory in the rising sun?

No fate could rob us of our own— No circumstance can make it less; What time removes was but a loan, For what was ours we still possess.

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Printed by Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury.