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“ Cease, Mem'ry, cease (the friendless mourner cry'd),
To probe the bosom too severely tried !
Oh! ever cease, my pensive thoughts, to stray
# Warwick Castle.
When youthful Hope, the music of the mind;
Tun'd all its charms, and E
-n was kind!
" Yet, can I cease, while glows this trembling frame, In figlis to speak thy melancholy name!
I hear thy spirit wail in every storm!
Pale as in that sad hour, when doom'd to feel,
Deep in thy perjur'd heart the bloody fteel!
“ Demons of Vengeance ! ye at whose command I grasp'd the sword with more than woman's hand,
Say ye, did Pity's trembling voice controul,
Or horror damp the purpose of my soul ?
Till Hate fulfill'd what baffled Love began!