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26
the fan.

Wake it from its pure repose,
Till the dear blush comes and goes;
Shade the dimple's frolic grace
Sporting o'er her sunny face;
Hide the smile of playful scorn
From her spirit's buoyance born;
Veil the timid sigh that parts,
Trembling, from her "heart of hearts;"
Aid the glances—words of light—
Flashing from her eye's blue night,
And her dearest bidding do,
Like an Ariel fond and true!

All sweet airs and incense wait
On thy wave, fair wand of Fate!
Soft and balmy, as her sigh,
Be each zephyr thou dost wake,
Round her graceful head to fly,
Blest be thou for Beauty's sake!

Yet, oh spirit! fold thy wing,
While thy ministry I sing!
Show her how some touch, too bold,
Marr'd thy robe of pearl and gold;