HOLD me, locks, securely caughtIn the circle of her face!
Dear brown serpents, I have noughtTo repay this act of grace,Save a heart whose love ne'er dies,Throbbing with aye-youthful glow;For a raging ETA lies'Neath its veil of mist and snow.
Yonder mountain's stately browThou, like morning beams, dost shame;Once again feels Hatem nowSpring's soft breath and summer's flame.
One more bumper! Fill the glass;
This last cup I pledge to thee!--
By mine ashes if she pass,"He consumed," she'll say, "for me."1815.
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