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LAURA.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

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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