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How Sweet the Hour when Twylight’s Purple Shade Doth wrap the Grove where erst our Vows were made; When ev’ry Flow’r bows down its Dewy Head, And Silence walks where’er the Mortals tread. Tis then, Clarissa, that thy Form appears, To chase the Gloom of all my waking Fears; No Gemm from India’s Mine can e’er compare To One soft Ringlet of thy Golden Hair. The World may Boast of Empire and of Gold, Of Conquests won by Warriors, Fierce and Bold; But I, more Blest, find Scepters in thy Hand, And bow to Love’s most Soveraign Command. Tho’ Tempests rise and Angry Billows roar, To cast my Vessel on a Desart Shore, Thy Constancy shall be my Magnet True, For All my Hopes are Center’d, Dearest, in you. --- [ 2 2 2 ]
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Mar 22
Mar 22, 2026 at 9:21 PM UTC
O! To My Souls Bright Starre
How Sweet the Hour when Twylight’s Purple Shade Doth wrap the Grove where erst our Vows were made; When ev’ry Flow’r bows down its Dewy Head, And Silence walks where’er the Mortals tread. Tis then, Clarissa, that thy Form appears, To chase the Gloom of all my waking Fears; No Gemm from India’s Mine can e’er compare To One soft Ringlet of thy Golden Hair. The World may Boast of Empire and of Gold, Of Conquests won by Warriors, Fierce and Bold; But I, more Blest, find Scepters in thy Hand, And bow to Love’s most Soveraign Command. Tho’ Tempests rise and Angry Billows roar, To cast my Vessel on a Desart Shore, Thy Constancy shall be my Magnet True, For All my Hopes are Center’d, Dearest, in you. --- [ 2 2 2 ]
here's a poem i had recently written as im now starting to try out writing like it's fom the 1800 - 1700's
mutedrain
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Mar 22
Mar 22, 2026 at 9:21 PM UTC
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