XXII

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XXII

I have known beauties cold and raw

As Winter in their purity,

Striking the intellect with awe

By dull insensibility,

And I admired their common sense

And natural benevolence,

But, I acknowledge, from them fled;

For on their brows I trembling read

The inscription o’er the gates of Hell

“Abandon hope for ever here!”

Love to inspire doth woe appear

To such⁠—delightful to repel.

Perchance upon the Neva e’en

Similar dames ye may have seen.