Love, under Friendship’s vesture white, Laughs, his little limbs concealing; And oft in sport, and oft in spite, Like Pity meets the dazzled sight, Smiles thro’ his tears revealing. But now as Rage the God appears! He frowns, and tempests shake his frame!— Frowning, or smiling, or in tears, ’Tis Love; and Love is still the same.
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