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We merry all appear;And as it in the fight may chance,

Who shall now receive that garmentFar beyond all others wish'd-for?Whom our much-loved mistress favourAs her own acknowledged servant?I am blest by kindly Fortune'sTokens true, in silence pray'd for!And I feel myself held captive,To her service now devoted.

In the drear void of a sad tortured breast;Now on the well-known threshold Hope hath smil'd,Herself appeareth in the sunlight mild.