13H 
0R0II1S 
’Tis but obedience to the plan 
From Nature’s birth proposed to Man; 
Who, lest her choicest sweets in vain 
Should blossom for our thankless train, 
Lest beauty pass unheeded by 
Like cloud upon the summer sky; 
Lest mem’ry of the brave and just 
Should sleep with them consign’d to dust: 
With leading hand th’ expedient proves. 
And paints for us thp form she loves. 
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