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"Pass we ten years, and what was Clelia's fate?"
At an attorney's board alert she sate,
Not legal mistress: he with other men
Once sought her hand, but other views were then;
And when he knew he might the bliss command,
He other blessing sought without the hand;
For still he felt alive the lambent flame,
And offer'd her a home,--and home she came.
There, though her higher friendships lived no more,
She loved to speak of what she shared before -
"Of the dear Lucy, heiress of the hall, -
Of good Sir Peter,--of their annual ball,
And the fair countess!--Oh! she loved them all!"
The humbler clients of her friend would stare,
The knowing smile,--but neither caused her care;
She brought her spirits to her humble state,
And soothed with idle dreams her frowning fate.
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"Ten summers pass'd?, and how was Clelia then?" -
Alas! she suffer d' in this trying ten;
The pair had parted: who to him attend,
Must judge the nymph unfaithful to her friend;
But who on her would equal faith bestow,
Would think him rash,--and surely she must know.
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