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A MISSION.

Like mad on the piano-forte.

A month ago those words I wrote,

Before I dreamt what ruin boded,

Or that the fair one wished to vote, -

Alas! how were my hopes exploded!

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I walk'd with her, I danc'd, I rode,

On bended knee I begg'd her choose me :

She droopt her eyelids a-la-mode, -

"I have a mission, please excuse me."

F.

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