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THE sun may roll from east to west,
Until the daylight dies;
Its sparkling beams are not so blest
As those of Laura's eyes.
To field and hill and grove I call,
While Echo's voice replies:
"O, fairer far than Nature's all
The light of Laura's eyes!"
The depth of streamlets oft I watch;
But Love to me denies
Their beauty, for they cannot match
The depth of Laura's eyes.
Let other bards of angels sing,
And stars that grace the skies;
My measures will forever ring
With praise of Laura's eyes!
L. L. E.
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